Stanford Days
by Casey2y5
Summary: Sam has a hard time adjusting to an apple pie life after he goes to Stanford, and Dean comes to visit. Sam realizes that maybe, just maybe he can learn to balance the two worlds. Pre-Series. Sam POV. Central story in the Stanford Days 'verse.
1. You're Free Sammy

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine. **

As I walked in all I could think was here goes the rest of my life. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that my life was finally, finally my own. Everything I did felt bold, even just walking to the dining hall by myself. I knew in part it was because I had been trained well-

_Never go outside alone after dark, Sammy._

I could still hear his warnings. He was always cautious when it came to me. I suppose it was his training. I couldn't let myself think of that now though. I couldn't think of that anymore. I had made the decision to leave that world behind, try and believe that there were no demons besides the one inside me, that things that went bump in the night were just the house settling. Sure I slept with a knife under my pillow, but no one had to know about that.

I had to start believing that this really was my life now. Normalcy was finally within reach. No more arguments with dad, moving every few weeks, no more Dean. I would miss Dean, really, I would. He practically raised me; he was my parent, my brother, my best friend. I knew sneaking out in the middle of the night was a bad idea, but the alternative was what he would deem a chick flick moment. Maybe by Christmas I would be able to call him without risking the need to just go back- to keep hunting. This is what I wanted, and this is what I would have, regardless of the cost.

_You're the most important family I have, Sammy._

The semester passed. I made friends, drank, studied- not necessarily in that order. My classes were easy, and I easily passed. I knew better than to drink to excess, not when there were civilians around- any bar fights I got into would definitely raise some questions. There was also this girl, Jess, who was incredible. Another part of the apple pie life I so desired. It was simple, normal, boring. So boring. Despite the invites of several friends to come over, to not spend Christmas alone, I turned them all down in favor of spending Christmas Eve in a diner- the greasiest spoon I could find. A little bit of home, or at least when I had known for the holidays. I had no interest in talking to John, but Dean, I considered calling again and again. He would hate the life I had adjusted so well too. I hadn't shot a gun in five months, and I was happy. When I looked up as the diner bell rang I swore I saw a familiar flash of brownish hair exit.

_I'll never have an apple pie life, Sammy._

I quickly brushed the incident off. A lot of people had that color hair. It was nothing. It's not like Dean would drive across the country to come to a diner I probably wouldn't even be in. I was just seeing things. Over the next few weeks though I kept thinking I saw the flash of a familiar jacket slipping around the corner or eyes on me. I did my best to ignore it, and just enjoy the time I had alone. I spent most of the time in the library, buried deep in old law texts. They were the furthest away I could get from the old life, and I enjoyed immersing myself in the challenging language. It wasn't quite Latin, but research always calmed me.

One day, a little after the new year I sensed a presence behind me. I knew to trust my gut- some training just runs too deep. I pushed the chair back, and spun around prepared to fight. The sight that greeted me almost made me fall over. I looked him over- boots, jeans, dad's old jacket on top of an unnatural amount of layers, trademark half grin, piercing green eyes, short hair. It was definitely something that looked like Dean. I reached too slowly into my jacket pocket for the vial of holy water I kept there and splashed some on his face.

_You have to be faster than that next time, Sammy._

"You've gotten slow there, Sammy."

"It's Sam."

"Whatever, bitch."

"Jerk," I replied instinctively, "what are you doing here?"

"I can't come to check on my baby brother?"

"You could've called?"

"You tellin' me you would've answered." I stayed silent. I don't know if I would've. I had just assumed he was some sort of supernatural being, not my brother.

"Right. So there a case around here or something?"

"Just wrapped one up in San Francisco. Thought I might come say hi."

"Is dad here?"

"No. He doesn't know I'm here either."

"You've been following me."

"I know. Thought you hadn't noticed."

"I did. Just thought I was losing it."

"Right. Well, I should be going I guess. You seem to be doing fine." I hesitated. Letting him just leave didn't feel right. He was already halfway to the elevator by the time I finished thinking. Maybe I really was getting slow.

"Dean, wait up. Want to grab some dinner or something before you leave?"

"Sure." The walk down to the Impala was silent. There wasn't a lot to say, not that we ever said much anyway, especially when it came to the emotional implication of stuff like this. I was surprised by the lump of emotion that did rise in my throat when I saw the car. I let my hand run over the hood, and to the handle.

"You miss her, Sammy?"

"Didn't realize how much."

"Drive." He tossed the keys at me, like it was a perfectly normal occurrence. I had never driven the Impala before. Well I had once, but Dean was unconscious and bleeding in the back so it didn't entirely count. We walked around to the proper sides of the car and he gave me an imperceptible nod. I got in, pulled the seat back a few inches- he really was short, and felt the familiar roar of her engine.

_Why would you leave us, Sammy?_

Dinner was mostly silent. It was typical, but just being able to be with Dean again was nice. I had to know- there was still a week until school started anyway.

"Got any good leads?"

"Missing the life?"

"Don't have a lot to do right now. No point in getting out of practice."

"I was looking at a salt and burn in Sacramento. It's not thrilling, but it's something. Thought you were done with the life"

"I am. Just figured you might want some help. Just a weekend trip anyway right?"

"Yeah, yeah of course it is"

"Then let's go."

**A/N: I'm not sure whether to continue this and actually make a story of Dean and Sam's relationship while he was at Stanford or just let it be a nice fluffy one-shot. Reviews make me happy!**


	2. It's Been Awhile Sammy

**Disclaimer/AN: Supernatural is not mine. I decided to continue this at the urging of babyreaper who really wanted to see a story of Sam and Dean during Sam's time at Stanford.**

The two hour drive to Sacramento seemed long half an hour in. We had spent almost every moment of our childhood together in this car, and now we couldn't seem to find the words necessary to bridge the gap that had cropped up between us in the past five months.

_Quit squirming so much, Sammy_

"So how've you been?" I broke the silence tentatively. Dean wasn't one for small talk, but we had to start somewhere.

"Alright. Things have been pretty quiet really. There was a poltergeist in Iowa that beat the crap out of me a few months back."

"So what's the back story on this case?" I really didn't want to ask about Dad. If there was something wrong Dean would have mentioned it.

"Nothing much. Girl was killed by her stepfather. Vengeful spirit type of thing. Shouldn't be too nasty. Not even gonna swing by the house, just gank the thing and get out."

"Right." It felt good to be back in the passenger seat. After Dean had inherited the Impala it had become the one place where I was the most comfortable.

_Never go anywhere unarmed, Sammy_

"Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"You still got that knife?"

"''Course I do. Never go anywhere without it."

"Remember that Christmas?" I smiled. Dad had been there for once. We had had a tree and presents, and a ham. It was almost a normal Christmas, except for the fact it was a motel room and we had escaped through a bathroom window that night.

"Yeah you gave me that knife and we escaped through a bathroom window."

"Closest thing to a real Christmas you ever had wasn't it?"

"Yeah. We had a tree and everything."

Dean laughed. "Even Dad showed up."

"How is Dad?" The question hung heavily in the air.

"He's alright. He's somewhere in Arkansas. Haven't really seen him in a few weeks."

"Oh. Figured you were still travelling with him."

"Off and on. All he said when I told him I was that job was that I had better not come up and see you and head straight to Arkansas. Help with a werewolf pack that's been giving a town some trouble."

"Then what are you doing here?" Dean was always the perfect little soldier; I was fairly certain he hadn't disobeyed a direct order before now.

_We have to do what Dad says, Sammy._

"Decided I'd rather see you. Besides its nothing Dad can't handle on his own; the full moon isn't for another week."

"Alright." I knew better than to push it any farther than I already had. Dad and his mission had always been a touchy subject between us, even as kids. Dean didn't want me to know the truth, and when he had finally told me, well I found out Santa wasn't real and monsters were on the same night. We both knew our childhood wasn't pretty, and had bordered on downright neglect. Dean was still furious at me for leaving, but he wouldn't say anything. We were Winchesters- we didn't show emotion until we were well beyond our breaking point. I allowed the rest of the drive to elapse in silence. It was late enough to break into the graveyard when we finally got to Sacramento.

"Sure you're up for this baby brother?"

"God Dean, it's not like I've ever desecrated a grave before."

"Just making sure you still know how to load a gun. I don't want to be getting thrown into a headstone just because you're fumbling with the shotgun."

"I'm sure I'll manage." I threw him my best bitchface. He opened up the arsenal and tossed me a shotgun and a shovel.

"Get digging." I groaned. "Hey, you're the one who wanted to come." The ground was hard, and the temperature was cold. When I finally hit the coffin I let out a sigh of relief. I hadn't done this in a while and my arms and back were definitely feeling it.

"You know the drill." I cracked the coffin open, coughing at the smell- she hadn't been dead for long. Then I heaved myself out of the grave and grabbed one of the salt tins from Dean. We began salting the grave and had just picked up the gasoline when we felt the temperature drop that usually indicated a spirit was not far behind. Dean had always been faster than me and had a shotgun in his hand before I could even turn around. Before I knew it I was flying through the air my side impacting the edge of a gravestone with shocking force. I heard a shot, and drug myself off the ground.

_You'll get us killed one these days, Sammy._

"God, you're slow Sammy."

"Out of practice." I grunted out the words, shocked to remember how badly cracked ribs hurt.

"I'll say." We finished splashing the body when we felt the presence again. I was more prepared this time, but I was still the one she chose to target- flying through the air and impacting a gravestone again. Then she was above me, pale and dirty slashing with long nails, then throwing me back into her own grave. I heaved myself out only to be attacked again.

"Dean- light her!" I scrabbled for my shotgun, and grasped the barrel before she could get to me again. I fired a shot, and to my horror missed. I shot again, and she disappeared, only to reappear seconds later behind me. I was flying through the air again, her hands on my throat. Then suddenly she screamed, and vaporized. I saw Dean walking, casually over to where I lay, out of breath and in more pain than I had been in for quite a while.

_You're a giant, Sammy_

"You ok Sammy?"

"I'll be fine. Just-"I moved to stand and fell promptly back over, "Just could use a hand. I think she broke some ribs." Dean's familiar arm wrapped around me and hauled me up.

"When'd you get taller than me?"

"Been taller than you since I was sixteen." I hissed in pain, but he chuckled anyway. We drove to the motel, and Dean checked us in.

"Haven't had to get a double in ages."

"Yeah, and I thought it was a simple salt and burn."

"Have you met our luck, Sam?"

"True. True." He helped me in, and plopped me onto a chair, before going out to get our stuff and lay down salt lines. I pulled my t-shirt off, gritting my teeth, and inspecting my injuries. There were dark bruises blossoming on my left side, and lacerations that would undeniably need stiches. I grimaced as I poured whisky on the deepest cut before threading the silk thread onto the curved needle and running in through the wound.

"Damnit. I forgot how much this hurt." Dean laughed.

"Occupational hazard. Besides you're a fair sight better at stitching up things then I am."

"I know. I had plenty of practice on you."

"Low blow." I turned my attention back to the final stich and knotted the thread.

"Can you come wrap my ribs?"

"Fine."

"So Dad's still pissed I left eh?"

"Yeah. Doesn't really want to see you, or me to see you." I had been thinking about ever since Dean had popped up behind in the library. Had he actually been a supernatural being he would've killed me before I ever noticed him. Although I couldn't see many ghosts or anything else for that matter choosing Stanford to target, it never hurts to be prepared. I needed the practice, and I was likely to head back to the life once I graduated anyway. There was no escaping it.

"I need to stay in practice. Hunting. It's a skill."

"Yeah. Well you ain't doing it on your own"

"No I'm not. But maybe during breaks and stuff I could come out with you? Hunt some stuff"

"Yeah why not?"

"Just don't tell Dad."

"I won't."

**A/N: Here's another chapter. I'm just making it up as I go, so hopefully it's at least ok. **


	3. Welcome Back Sammy

There was a part of me that didn't want this hunt to end. Sure I was sore, tired, and very much remembering why I left the life in the first place. The thought of going back to school was, in its own way, more terrifying than any of the monsters we had faced, because I would be doing it without Dean. There was no choice in the matter. Of course there wasn't. Dad wanted my head on a stick, and even though I didn't blame him for it, it meant I couldn't see Dean. I was sneaking around to see my own brother. Now that of all things was messed up. It made me feel like I was fourteen again and sneaking around to see Deborah Jameson after Dad and Dean had gone to bed.

_Finally discovered girls, Sammy?_

There were some things Dean had said to me that made me feel like the little brother I was, that had broken me. I had never heard him sound as sad as when he asked me if I needed to go back to school.

"Not yet. Classes don't start back up until Monday"

"So what are doing until then?" I had to think about it. Jess was getting back Saturday but I had no commitments until then. There was no reason to not extend my time with my brother.

"Not a whole lot. Jess gets back Saturday, but there's not really a lot to do on campus."

"Alright. So we head back tomorrow."

"Right."

"Who's Jess?" I knew he was going to ask this. There was a reason I didn't tell my brother- the ultimate ladies' mad about my relationships- mainly because they were relationships, not one night stands with sleazy barflies.

"Just a girl I've been seeing."

"Ooh, Sammy's got a girlfriend."

"Not really. We've been on a few dates is all."

"Sure thing, Sam By the way I never asked. What on Earth are you studying here college-boy?"

"Pre-law." He stilled at that. We had been raised to be, at best, wary of the law. We were doing the right thing a lot of times, but in a world that didn't believe in the supernatural it didn't always look that way.

_Don't be afraid, Sammy._

"Why?"

"So I can get you out of trouble." I was mostly joking but in reality I had been very strongly considering going into defense. It just felt right.

"Oh."

"What've you been up to, besides the hunting things?"

"Nothing you don't know about. Just hunting, hustling pool, the usual."

"Still running credit card scams?"

"Of course."

"Right." That was possibly my least favorite thing, of all the things Dad had taught us to do. There were just some things even a hunter shouldn't do. Everyone had their own lines- mine was identity theft. Then again bow hunting had never been my thing either. There was something uncomfortable about it that I never could put my finger on. Maybe it was that it felt a little bit too personal, even if what I was killing was by no means human.

"So you gonna tell Dad you saw me?"

"Nah. If I did there's no way I'd be able to get up here to see you in the spring."

"So you're really gonna show up?"

"Of course, Sammy."

"I have missed hunting, you know. It's all I've known."

"You wouldn't have come with me otherwise."

"Yeah I would've. Missed you more than I missed hunting." He clammed up at that and rolled over on his bed. I figured the moment was a bit too emotional for him, hell it was too emotional for me. I copied his movement and dozed off. I was where I was most comfortable- the bed farthest from the door. It had always been like that, especially when dad was gone. Dean always took the bed closest to the door. Although I couldn't see anything barging through the door, crossing the salt lines, and heading straight for the nearest bed I had always allowed it. It made me feel safe when I was kid, and now it was just a comforting habit, for us both. I imagined he had done it even during the months I wasn't there. I had actually had a hard time sleeping my first few weeks at school because there wasn't someone between me and the door. It's amazing what you get used to. I dozed off, and despite the hard motel bed and questionable heater I slept better than I had in months.

I awoke the next morning to the smell of gas station coffee entering the room as the door closed. I moved instinctively for my knife.

"Down Sammy. It's just me."

"Hey." I grunted, the word muffled in my pillow.

"Thought you were supposed to be the morning person, Sammy?"

'_S too early, Sammy._

"Sore." And oh, I was. I had forgotten just how much hunting took out of me. Or I was just out of practice. I had been a lot more beaten up than this before and felt better the next day. My ribs were sore, and it hurt to breathe. My back and biceps were sore from the digging I had done, not that I would admit that part to Dean.

"Catch." I automatically reached up and caught the bottle Dean had casually tossed me. Vicodin.

"This is some good stuff."

"Yeah. Amazing what a broken arm will get you." I raised my eyebrow at that, but said nothing. I knew it was the poltergeist in Iowa he had mentioned. It would've really had to have been a nasty beating for Dean to mention it, even casually.

Yeah, don't I know it." I hauled myself out of bed, hissing in pain as I did so.

"Sure you don't need the hospital?"

"I'm fine. I've cracked ribs before."

"So, we know where cracked ribs can lead." Punctured lungs. We both knew, and didn't forget. I was 12- Dad still wouldn't let me go on hunts with them, but Dean had been doing so for about a year. They had come through the door after going after a group of particularly angry spirits. Dean's face was so swollen as to be almost unrecognizable, and he was clutching his side.

"He cracked some ribs, Sammy. Tape him up." I was already a first aid expert at 12, and saw that his lacerations needed more immediate attention than anything else. I stitched him up easily, pouring whisky in as a disinfectant. I looked at his ribs, prodding as gently as I could. I had been concerned about the concave spot I found on his right side, but decided to trust Dad's judgment and just made sure to tape is up a little tighter than I normally would. I tossed Dean some ibuprofen- all we had at the time and made sure he got into bed without popping any stiches.

He had woken up the next morning hardly able to breathe. It was the first time I had ever dared question a direct order.

"He needs a hospital."

"He's fine, Sam. Cracked ribs hurt. More than you know."

"I've seen cracked ribs. There's something else wrong. Either you drive him or I'll call an ambulance." It was a low blow and I knew it. There would be a lot more questions if a twelve year old called an ambulance for his teenage brother who looked like he had just been put through a meat grinder.

"Sam, he'll be fine." I had made the call, and ever since then we had both been exceptionally cautious about cracked and even bruised ribs. It had also been the beginning of the end for mine and Dad's relationship. I had chosen Dean's well-being over being discreet- a hunter's ultimate goal.

_It's a part of the job, Sammy._

"Hey, Sam you with me?"

"Yeah, yeah." I realized I had been sitting on the side of the bed clutching my side, lost in the recollection.

"Sure you're ok?"

"Quit worrying, Dean. Just not used to this anymore ok?" He threw his hands up in surrender. "Just let me shower, and we can get out of here."

"Sure thing, Sammy."

**A/N: I finally figured out where I want this story to go, and it'll get interesting, although it may move kind of slowly in some parts. I'm super excited and am looking forward to hearing what you all think about this chapter so R/R. Also, Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate!**


	4. Let's Go Sammy

I heaved myself into the car, wishing that there was less of me. I might hurt less that way. I wondered vaguely how I would explain the bruises to Jess. Right now, getting home to my own soft bed seemed like a higher priority.

"God Dean, how do you do this?"

"How did you leave?" It was a huge part of who he was, I knew that. He remembered Mom- I didn't.

"You said, earlier that it was the closest to a normal Christmas I ever had. Do you remember any from before- when Mom was alive?"

"Not really. I mean we were happy, and there was a huge tree, and presents. But nothing specific."

"Ok." The drive back was quiet, punctuated mostly with small talk. I wanted to know about the hunts Dean had been on, and he wanted to know about my classes. Eventually though we made it back to Palo Alto, and he pulled into the same diner I had eaten at on Christmas Eve.

_Just order a salad, Sammy._

"God, I love this place. Best greasy spoon in California."

"Hey, man, were you here on Christmas Eve?"

"Yeah. How'd you know that?"

"I was too. I saw you leave, or at least I thought I did." Dean burst out laughing.

"Well, I guess we did have Christmas together after all."

"Yeah, I guess we did." I knew this would be the last time I saw him for a long while, even if he did show back up during spring break. I did, honestly have my doubts that he would. He could be in middle of a hunt, or stuck with a Dad. The life of a hunter usually didn't include making plans months in advance, and for those stupid enough to try, those plans were almost always broken. I had to trust him- I mean it wasn't like I didn't already trust him with my life. He ordered the pancake platter, with extra bacon, while I got cereal. Our food arrived, brought by the portly middle-aged waitress.

_You're taller than me now, Sammy_

"Sammy, you eat like a rabbit."

"So."

"How do you not starve?"

"I'm not exactly running marathons every day, Dean."

"So. I sit a car all day and I still eat more than you do."

"Yeah, how are you not fat?"

"When I'm not in the car I'm running for my life." Eventually the meal was finished, and Dean drove me back to the dorm, hardly speeding for once. He needed to get to Dad, and I needed to get ready for classes on Monday. We weren't quite ready for this getaway to be over but we had our real lives to get back to.

"So try and stay in shape, eh, Sam? Can't have you getting tossed around like a rag doll again next time right?"

"Yeah, sure Dean." I did vow to myself to actually start training a little more, maybe enroll in some martial arts classes or something.

_You get used to being hit, Sammy._

"So uh, when do I need to be back here for you?" He was rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he was uncomfortable in a situation.

"Last week of March."

"I will be here. Even if I can't find a hunt around here."

"I know you will."

"Yeah, well, you don't sound so sure"

"Quit trying to pick a fight Dean." I was getting exasperated. This is how it always went. The adrenaline from a hunt would wear off, and Dean would go right back to being defensive.

"Be safe, Sammy."

"It's Sam. And I will. Watch yourself out there."

_I'll be right here when you get back, Sammy._

"Always do." After an awkward one armed hug, and a final nod, he got back into the Impala and drove to the interstate. I walked back to my dorm room, and swung the door open without even thinking. The blonde girl sitting on my bed almost got slammed into a wall with a knife to her throat before I realized it was just Jess.

"God, Jess. I almost killed you. Thought you weren't getting back until Saturday."

"Decided to come back early. I missed you, and figured you'd be here. Where were you anyway?" I hesitated. I no interest in lying to her, but I had made it clear that my relationship with my family was pretty strained.

"My brother was driving through town. I went to grab a bite to eat with him."

"Oh, okay." I breathed an internal sigh of relief as she accepted it without question. I guess I had also made it clear that I did miss my brother, regardless of any tensions between us. I sensed immediately I was in for a long wait until spring break.

"How was your break?" She hadn't moved from my bed, and I went and sat next to her, pulling her against me.

"It was good. I missed my family, but I was also glad to come back you know? I don't know how people who live at home and go to school do it."

"Yeah." I had no recollection of a home as she was referring to it, but I imagined that having your family breathing down your neck, expecting you to continue the same responsibilities you had in high school while also studying for midterms would be, at best, nerve wracking.

"How was yours?"

"It was quiet. I spent a lot of time in the library, and then Dean showed up." I settled back into my life with relative ease, the only real change from the previous semester was the weekly call from Dean I was always available to take. I didn't know how he managed to call at the exact same time every week, but he did, and it let us keep in touch. My classes were harder, and I actually had to focus now. I partied less, studied more, and found myself spending more and more time with Jess. It was hard to keep my eye on the ultimate goal, a law degree. It was what I wanted, no matter how strange my brother found it. There was something about keeping innocent people out of jail that appealed to me- or maybe it was just because I had bailed both Dad and Dean out a few times. By the time spring break rolled around, the week after midterms, I was definitely ready to blow off some steam. I was looking forward to the call from Dean this week, hoping he had found a hunt in the area. Sure enough, right on schedule my phone rang.

"Hey. What's up?"

"I got us a case. It just looks like a Black Dog, but it's better than nothing." Black dogs were portents of death, and any hunter could kill one in their sleep. It had been my first hunt when I was fourteen.

"Yeah. When will you be here?"

"I'm wrapping up a case in Idaho now. I'll be headed your way sometime tomorrow, so."

"I'll be ready to leave Saturday."

"Yeah, you aren't gonna get hurt this time?" I laughed. My ribs had been sore for two weeks after that hunt at New Year's and I wasn't in a hurry to repeat that experience. Carrying books was painful, let alone the bone-breaking hugs Jess liked to give.

"I have no intention of doing that. Besides, it's just a Black Dog, how hard can it be?"

"True." I could hear the shrug in his voice.

"I'll see you then."

"Yeah."

**A/N: Well there's that. It's a little short, but I do have a story map going now. Finding monsters for them to hunt has been a lot of fun. After you review this chapter (which I knew you wonderful person you are going to do) you should check out Getting You Out Of The Dark. It's a one-shot I wrote from Dean's perspective as he gets ready to go meet the hellhounds at the end of Season 3. **


	5. We're Back On The Road, Sammy

I had explained to Jess back in February that I would be spending spring break with Dean. She had been unconcerned- she was going to Charleston, South Carolina with some friends. I had slipped a protection amulet into her bag when she had left the room the other night. Charleston's dead weren't known for being peacefully at rest and I knew a little extra protection wouldn't hurt. The earrings I had given her the previous day may have had certain protection qualities and may or may not have been made with materials certain supernatural beings found repulsive. I _certainly_ hadn't dipped them in a salt bath before I had given them to her. I had realized when I got off the phone with Dean the day before that he hadn't told me exactly where this Black Dog was located.

In all reality, despite the fact that a silver bullet was all it took to kill the average Black Dog they were, in my opinion, the most terrifying beings we fought (and a very large part of me was quite alright with the fact that we didn't hunt clowns). There was something about their unholy red eyes that sent shivers up my spine. I had even had a nightmare the previous night about Dean getting torn apart by one. I finished folding my last t-shirt and tossed it into my duffel. I stuffed my knife into the back of my jeans before I went to say goodbye to Jess.

_There's nothing to be afraid of, Sammy._

She answered her door on the first knock and her familiar arms enveloped me. Her fingers traced the outline of my knife and I felt her tense in my arms

"Sam, what's that?" Her voice didn't shake like I would have expected it too, but she sounded nervous.

"It's nothing." I hoped she would just drop it. I knew her well enough to know she wouldn't, but I had no interest in fighting with her right now. I scrambled quickly for a believable lie.

"Nothing sure feels a lot like a knife."

"Jess, drop it please." She took my words literally and backed to the opposite side of the room. There was something that I never wanted to see in her eyes, especially in relation to me-fear.

"No. Why are you carrying a knife?" Great, just what I wanted. She was on the defensive now.

"You know how my family travelled a lot when I was a kid?"

"Yeah."

"Well when I was about fourteen we were staying at a pretty rough motel. I got mugged and I got beat up pretty bad. It's where I got the scars on my chest. I haven't liked to travel unarmed since." The lie sounded transparent to me, but the sudden pity in her eyes told me otherwise.

"Oh, oh Sam I'm so sorry." She sat down in the nearest chair. I knelt in front of her- eye to eye for once.

"It's ok. You didn't know." She reached out and absently touched my cheek.

"I thought it was to-"

"Jess, listen to me. You didn't know, and you were going off your gut."

"Still though-"

"I would never hurt you. Always, always trust that gut of yours." I felt guilty for lying to her, more than I had ever felt before. I had been lying since I could form complete sentences, and had never felt bad for it until now. Eventually, I said my goodbyes, and went back to get my stuff, knowing Dean would be speeding into town at any moment. I had just reached my floor when my phone rang.

"Hello."

"It's me. I'm outside."

"I'm on my way down." I grabbed my things and raced down as quickly as I could.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"So, where are we headed?"

"It's this town in Washington. Called Wenatchee. It's like 14 hours from here."

"So Black Dog huh?"

"Yeah, that's what it looks like anyway. Quick and easy. Should be done by Wednesday. Thinkin about picking up a salt and burn in San Francisco if we have time." I shrugged. I had over a week until I needed to be back. If Dean wanted to make a side trip he could make a side trip.

"Let's just get a move on."

_We can't tell anyone, Sammy_

"Ok, that's it. What's the matter with you?" The question came six hours into the drive. We were pulling into a diner because Dean was hungry. Admittedly I had been quiet through the trip so far, speaking only when spoken to with minimal syllables used to respond. I didn't expect him to notice. I was stuck on my altercation earlier with Jess. I wasn't sure which feeling I liked least- that I had lied to her or that she could see me as a threat. I did pose a danger to her- I knew that. There were plenty of things out there would love to get their hands on a defenseless Winchester, but she didn't know that. She was, at her essence, a civilian. She didn't like killing flies, and she had been a vegetarian since was twelve. She was utterly defenseless.

"It's nothing, Dean."

"It's something. You wouldn't be brooding over there if it wasn't. Now spill, Cinderella."

"Just don't like lying to Jess about what it is I do. It sucks."

"You lie to people all the time."

"Yeah. It's just- when I went to say goodbye to her earlier I already my knife in my jeans. She felt it, and she freaked out. I think she thought I was going to hurt her."

"Yeah. You wouldn't though right?"

"Not a chance in hell, man. But it's like she knew there was something else besides the story I told her about getting mugged. Just don't like lying to her, or having her be afraid of me like that. She's just so innocent."

"Yeah, well that's why hunters don't get married." I froze. I hadn't thought of it like that. Leave it to him to figure out in three seconds what I couldn't in six months.

_We're hunters, not lovers, Sammy._

"- Its not- I'm not in love with her."

"Yeah. Then why don't you ever shut up about her?"

"Just, order your damn food." The waitress conveniently appeared just as the words left my mouth.

"Sounds like you boys are ready to order." She smirked at us, lowering her eyelashes. She was about twenty-five, and too pretty to be working here, I realized absently.

"I'll have a burger, extra onions."

"Fries with that?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

"And you?"

"I'll have a burger. Salad instead of fries." Dean snorted into his Coke, as per usual.

"That'll be right out."

"She was checking you out man"

"Yeah, well I got a girlfriend."

"Sure thing." She brought our meals out, and we quickly devoured them, eager to get back on the road. I requested separate bills, but Dean stopped me before I could even get the sentence out.

"It's not a problem. You have school to pay for anyway."

"I have a full ride." He shrugged. She came back with the card, and a number written on a slip of paper. Dean grinned, and slid it into his pocket.

"Maybe we'll come back this way." I snorted. We got back in the car, gave her some subsistence too, then hit the highway again.

"So what have you been up to?"

"Eh, took down a couple of demons with Dad in February, then some salt and burns in Tampa. I've been working my way west since mid-March. Just finished a wendigo in Idaho."

"And you got out of that one unscathed?" Wendigo were tricky buggers to find, and usually it took several days and a long hike into the forest to find them. I never heard of anyone going after one alone, and making it out without so much as a scratch. Then again, this was Dean. There were very few people who had been raised in the life like we were, and it gave us an edge that other hunters certainly did have. That edge primarily being youth, we could move a heck of a lot faster than someone who had had the time to lose their families to the supernatural.

"Yeah. Ran out of water purification tablets my last day. Spent my first night with running water on the toilet."

"God, Dean. Didn't need to know."

"You asked."

_They never look at it anyway, Sammy._

The rest of the drive was passed in a similar manner. Joking, laughing, it was great- even if it would have to end soon. We drove straight through, getting to Wenatchee about one a.m. and found a motel that was typical to our preferences- cheap, clean, and discreet. Why we bothered with discreet I never understood- it wasn't like our car didn't stick out like a sore thumb just about everywhere we went anyway. We argued over the first shower, and then crashed, hoping to get up early and get a move on, on the research for this case.

Sure enough, much to Dean's displeasure the alarm rang at promptly 8. We got up, put on our cheap suits and fake IDs and went to the local morgue.

"Agents Westbee, Colhan. I didn't realize the FBI was taking an interest in this case."

"Well ma'am, wild animal attacks, especially a spree of them like this, is always a concern." I fell back into the role I'd been playing since I was sixteen with ease. Once I had gotten taller than Dean Dad had quit trying to prevent me from actually being useful.

"Right, well we just have the body of the most recent victim, Sara Hoesten, still here." She pulled out the tray with practiced ease, and pulled back the sheet. Despite our acquaintance with death, and even flat out mutilations, even Dean paled at the mangled body that sat before us. The corner shook her head and left the room.

"That's no Black Dog, Sammy."

"You're telling me."

"Her heart still there?"

"Why do I always have to be the one to check?"

"I'm the oldest."

"I don't think even a werewolf would do this much damage."

"Yeah, well the lunar cycle is right so we have to check." I grimaced as I poked around in what was left of the chest cavity.

"No heart."

"Son of a bitch!" This hunt had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

**A/N: Whew, this chapter got away from me (it's the longest one I've ever written), but it's nice and long yeah? I realize that cell phones were just becoming common in 2001-2002 but Dean does have on in After School Special so it's canon, and I decided they were a valuable tool for a hunter and John would've made sure his boys had one as soon as was practical. Also, Wenatchee is totally a real town that I found on Google Earth. I'm thinking of creating 'verse out of this story using the italics (which are things Dean has said to Sam in the past in case you didn't know) and the giant time gaps that exist between chapters. This'll be longer than the chapter if I don't shut up, so please R/R! I'd love to hear what you all think!**


	6. Let's Get 'Em, Sammy

I groaned, very much in agreement with sentiment Dean had just expressed. Werewolves were annoying, and nasty, and just not worth the time it took to kill. I hated the damn things, we both did. We pushed the body back into its self-enclosed container. After bidding good-bye to the coroner with the caution we may be back, we walked back to the Impala.

"Man, that was nasty. Even for us."

"Think there's more than one?"

"Werewolves in packs? It's possible."

"So, we can go figure out who these things are?"

"That's why I'm here." I was already frustrated. This was supposed to be a quick and clean case. Werewolves were rarely quick and never clean. I knew where we were headed without having to ask. The first victim's home.

_They always look sad, Sammy._

"Let's get this done." We pulled up to the house, adjusted our ties, and knocked.

"Mrs. Hoeston?" I asked, as the door swung open to reveal a wary, strained looking woman.

"May I help you?"

"I'm Agent Westbee. This is my partner, Agent Colhan. We're investigating your daughter's death." We were lucky that so far as looks went I had taken after Dad and Dean had taken after Mom. People didn't look at us and think brothers. We flashed the badges, identifying ourselves as FBI agents.

"Come in." Our disguises were usually pretty thin but the people we interviewed were so often beaten down, worn by their grief. Maybe they knew the legitimate authorities were just as baffled as they were by their loved one's death and they sensed that we could help.

"Did Sara have any new friends? They would've moved to the area about a month ago?"

"No, not that I was aware of. I thought she was mauled."

"She was, most likely. We're just exploring all options; given that there have been similar deaths to hers in the area lately."

"I would appreciate it if you would leave now." Dean opened his mouth to object. He wanted to get more information from her, find the werewolf. He knew just as well as I did that the sudden dismissal probably meant that she knew something.

"Thank you for your time ma'am. If you think of anything, especially anyone who may have been new in your daughter's life please let us know." I handed her a card with my contact info on it and led the reluctant Dean out the door, to the Impala. He slid into the driver's seat.

_Screw the police, Sammy._

"She knew something, Sam."

"I know, and if we hadn't left she would've called the police."

"Because we've never been arrested before. We could have had this thing!"

"I'd like to not spend my spring break in jail." He gave me a look that clearly said I was being stupid.

"Yeah, well, what kind of newspaper doesn't mention victim's hearts getting ripped out?"

"A small town that doesn't want to scare its residents?"

"Yeah, well they should be scared. They have a werewolf walking around"

"They don't know that." Dean merely grunted, and drove back to the motel. He grabbed the stack of papers we had, featuring articles that highlighted the recent deaths. His brow furrowed ever deeper as he combed through them. I was confused, but assumed he had an idea. I'd let him figure it out. I flopped down on the bed and turned on the TV. We sat in silence for a long time. Just before the sun went down I got hungry.

"I'm gonna go grab some food. Want anything?"

"Yeah. Burger and pie."

"Right." I grinned at the rising moon, which wouldn't be full until two days from now. We had time to solve this despite Dean's desperation. I pulled up into the diner, and got out of the car. It was our typical fare, and I ordered to-go. They had pecan pie, Dean's favorite. He'd be happy about that. Our food came, and I grabbed the greasy food bag, and stacked the bag with pie on top of the drinks before heading back to the Impala. I heard a low growl coming from the dumpsters on the side of the diner. I sat the food on top of the car, and pulling the silver loaded gun from my jeans turned to face what I hoped was a stray dog. I moved very quietly, not wanting to alert anything that was there. As I rounded the corner I was taken aback by what I saw. Five werewolves standing in a circle growling at each other. Of everything I had been taught to be prepared for a well-organized werewolf pack was not one of them; they simply weren't supposed to exist. One caught my scent and turned to look at me. I did the only sensible thing- though I knew Dean would laugh at me later for it. I ran. I grabbed the food bag from the top and unlocked the door, belatedly realizing the drinks and the pie were still on the roof. I was in before the werewolves caught up to me though.

Dean was going to laugh at me, and then he was going to kill me for getting soda all over his car. It was going to happen. I pulled back up to the motel, sticking the gun, which had been tossed haphazardly in the passenger seat in my haste to get away, back into the waistband of my jeans. The adrenaline was still pumping. I opened the door, and Dean glanced up.

_Pie is my favorite dessert, Sammy._

"Where's the pie?"

"In the parking lot of the diner."

"Dude." He was annoyed. He always was when it was pie.

"It was either me or the pie, man." He looked up at that.

"What?"

"We were right. There's a pack of them. There were five. They got my scent."

"And you didn't shoot them?"

"Six bullets. Five werewolves. One me."

"Still could've saved the pie." I had forgotten this was my family. Someone almost died- eh, it happens; forget the food- you will be killed. It didn't matter. It felt good to be back on a challenging case. As much as I said I hated this life, I didn't. I liked saving people.

"Right, Dean. I was going to get mauled, just to make sure you got your pie."

"Well, we know what we're dealing with. Think we can just take 'em out separately?"

"Not likely. They looked like they were planning."

"They can't communicate when they're like that. "

"Well maybe they can. I mean we didn't think they moved in packs either."

"Who are they though?"

"Trying to figure it out." I tossed the burger at Dean, and sat down to eat my own.

"Got something. Sara went to school here for about a year."

"Yeah, we know that. Why does it matter?"

"Her mother didn't move here until three weeks ago."

"Oh. You think?"

"Makes sense."

"Why would she kill Sara though?"

"Maybe she didn't. Maybe it was someone else in the pack."

"Great. So we have a pack of werewolves, and one pissed off mama-wolf."

"Basically."

"Let's go." We went down to the house we had visited the previous day, and waited, knowing Mrs. Hoesten would return in due time. She was well organized, and not only knew what she was but how to organize others.

**A/N: This was a really hard chapter to write, and I'm not overly pleased with it. I'd love some feedback on it. **


	7. Stranger Things Have Happened, Sammy

It was a stakeout. They were boring. They always had been, and always would be. I had gone on my first one when I was twelve. Dean said I was still too young to fight but they needed a third pair of eyes, so I sat in the back of the Impala for hours, bored senseless. They didn't take me the next night either, when the fight actually did go down.

"Coffee." It was two-thirty and I was beyond complete sentences. Dean tossed me the thermos and I grunted my thanks.

"Why didn't we just come at sunrise when she'll be back?"

"She's a controlled werewolf, Sam. The normal rules don't exactly apply here. For all we know she could have control over her transformations too." I snorted, beyond dignity.

"I doubt that."

"I'm just taking precautions."

"I know. Sleep would be nice though." Ok fine, I hated stakeouts. I got cranky when I didn't get enough sleep, and no amount of caffeine could cure it; when I got cranky I got defensive. It almost always led to a fight. I knew this, and yet I didn't stop talking.

"You're the one that wanted to come. If you wanted to stay at Stanford and sleep I wasn't stopping you."

"I came because I wanted to spend time with my brother. Go on a nice, simple hunt to keep my skills sharp- not get involved in one of the most complicated hunts we've taken on alone."

"Are you saying you'd rather have me call Dad then sit here?" I should've known he wasn't going to let me pick a fight- he said the one thing that he knew would get me to back down.

"No."

"Then suck it up, Sammy."

_Deal with it, Sammy_

I shut up and remained silent for a while, glaring out the window. Finally about four-thirty we saw her dark figure slide into the house, hours before dawn. I hated when Dean was right.

"Let's go." Grabbing our weapons we moved, quietly. I picked the lock on the back door and Dean slid in ahead of me. Mrs. Hoeston was standing in the kitchen.

"We know what you are." Dean spoke, startling her.

"I'm not anything. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah you do. And you know what- we've never seen anything like you." We were back, working as a team, taking turns speaking, working her so that a wall was at her back. She laughed- cold and hard.

"And you won't again." Her teeth were lengthening, her face becoming more feral. She lunged forward; throwing Dean against the wall opposite her I moved quickly, firing, and missing in my reluctance to hit Dean too. He regained his composure quickly, before she could get her claws into him, and threw himself at her, effectively pinning her to the table. The fangs retracted.

"You don't want to know where the rest of the pack is?" She was stalling for time, now that she realized we could easily take on one werewolf and that she was living on borrowed time.

"We can find them without you."

"I doubt that. They've learned well."

"Uh huh."

"They can only control it during the full moon, proper of course. Still though that's what, two days to track five werewolves?"

"We'll come back." He raised his gun and fired. I flinched, still unused to the noise.

"Let's go. I bet that woke the neighbors." We flew to the car and sped to the motel.

"Pack. We need to get out of here."

"No one saw us."

"Instinct, Sam." I threw my stuff in my duffel.

_Trust your gut, Sammy._

"What about the rest of the pack?"

"I'll grab Dad and we'll finish them off next month."

"Why the daughter, I wonder." We were in the Impala, headed away.

"Maybe a turning gone wrong, maybe the mom was looking at a mutiny. Does it really matter?"

"I feel like it does. The rest of it is just normal werewolves doing what they do, but there's no reason to kill the daughter."

"They're animals. It's not like they're in control."

"I _saw_ them Dean. They were communicating. They knew not to attack her, and the mom was controlled- almost like a shifter."

"You're looking for something that isn't there, Sammy. It's strange to see werewolves in packs, granted, but stranger things have happened."

"Dean. We thought it was a Black Dog at first. Werewolf attacks never look like those."

"We'll figure it out."

"Yeah, right."

"Now let's go gank that ghost in San Fran, then get you back."

"Yeah." There was something off about this case. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, and until I could I wasn't going to push it. There was a month, and I could easily do some research in the month we had.

_Of course I can read your mind, Sammy_

"Don't you dare. School is more important."

"How did you even-"

"I know you, Sam. I'll figure it out."

"Alright."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not." He didn't believe me. I could tell. He knew full well I would be looking into it- seeing if I could find any lore on what we had seen. Getting rid of the ghost in San Francisco was easy- a run of the mill salt and burn. Two mornings later we were sitting in a diner, glad to have graveyard dirt off of us.

"You mind getting back a little early, Sammy?"

"Trying to get rid of me so quickly. I'm hurt."

"Dad called- needs me in Montana ASAP." My training kicked in. If Dad was calling Dean for help he really must be in a tight spot. The joking mood changed almost immediately.

"Not a problem. Jess is supposed to get back later. I can surprise her." He just shook his head.

"Yeah, sure dude. What's college life like anyway?"

"It's boring, comparatively. My roommate Brady- he's pre-med is pretty cool. There's classes and parties, and Jess. That's about it."

"Yeah. Do you like it?"

"I do. I just- I don't know. I think that I'll end up going back to hunting full time after I actually become a lawyer."

"No apple pie life for you?"

"With the life we lead, Dean? There's a lot of stuff that would love to get at an unprotected Winchester, and then whatever killed Mom is still out there."

"So you'll just leave Jess?"

"No, I mean I don't what I'll do. Why does it matter?"

"Just seems like she's the kind of girl you could settle down with, 2.5 kids, all that."

"Eh. There's time. Right now I can go to school and hunt with you. What else matters?"

"True." I got back to Stanford about two. I called Jess, knowing she was back in town.

"Hey." She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey babe. You busy?"

"No. Why?"

"I'm back. And I wanted to see you."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Sam."

"Listen, I know we had that fight."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Please." She sighed.

"I'll be there in ten minutes." I had ten minutes to make this decision then.

"I'll see you then." There was a part of me that wanted to tell her what I did, who I was. I knew I couldn't. I wanted to think that this was some huge life altering decision, when there was really no decision at all. I couldn't tell her. There was a knock at the door.

"Hey." She walked into the room, wary.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to scare you."

"I know. It's just sometimes there's just something off about you. Something you aren't telling me."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad." I smiled softly, taking her into my arms, and letting her jasmine scent surround me. I kissed the top of her head, and settled in for the rest of the day. I was content, knowing, that at least for now I could have this, and still hunt with my brother.

_I hope you never have to choose, Sammy._

**A/N: Well, next up should be summer vacation. How will Sam manage that? Will he be able to keep up the balance between his life at Stanford and hunting? Will Jess find out? Updates are going to be a little sporadic, as classes are resuming for me tomorrow. Please R/R.**


	8. I'm Okay, Sammy

The next few weeks seemed to drag on. Classes were challenging, if not necessarily interesting and I still talked to Dean every week. Honestly dragging myself out of bed, just to go to a class was getting more difficult and didn't seem worth the energy. I threw myself more into my workout routine, hoping it would give me some extra energy. The only reason I didn't flat out leave and hit the road with Dean was Jess and the access to an awesome library.

I had, as usual, ignored Dean. I was doing research, hoping to find something. Werewolves were solitary creatures by nature; I assumed it had something to do with the fact they ravaged anything that close enough to bite. Shifters were mistaken for werewolves a lot and they did run in packs sometimes. Maybe we had messed up and Mrs. Hoesten's pack was just a bunch of really stupid shifters.

The evidence- including her insistence they could only control their transformations at the full moon- didn't add up. They were werewolves, but it was almost as if they were a different species we had never dealt with. Were they still compelled to turn at the full moon and how much control did they really have? I needed answers as the next full moon after Dean and I had discovered the pack was rapidly approaching. It was during our usual call that I breached the topic.

"Hey you know that pack?"

"Sam, I told you not to-"

"Well, I did anyway."

"What did you find?"

"Jack."

"Then why even bring it up?"

"Because that's the point, Dean. Listen, everything and I mean everything, has some fragment of lore alluding to it right? Well, there's nothing on these guys even though they're unnaturally controlled."

"Where are you going with this, Sammy?"

_You are too smart for your own good, Sammy._

"I was thinking what if this pack is a subspecies, I guess, of werewolf. They exhibit traits we've never seen before and everything else-"

"You're seriously telling me you think _monsters _are evolving?"

"It has to be something. It's just a theory."

"But it is- then shit- what else is out there?"

"I don't know." I knew he could hear the shrug in my voice. I was just passing along the info. I also knew Dean was panicking. If monsters were evolving then it fell into the category of things other hunters needed to know, and if there's one thing Winchesters hated more than monsters it was other hunters.

"What if they, I don't know, develop immunity to silver, or-"Dean had been rambling and I was lost in my thoughts. Mostly unaware of what he had said I went with the best I knew.

"Calm down. These things take time. I mean we've on the road with Dad for what, almost twenty years and we've only seen this once. I'm positive there's time to figure this out as it happens."

"Yeah. What about other hunters?"

"Just do the same as you've always done."

"Right. Well hey, if you're right, at least we know what we're up against."

"Yeah, that always helps."

"It'd help more if you would just come." Dean had been trying to get me to come and help finish the job ever since I had gotten back. He knew I wouldn't go. Dad would be there for one, and I had no interest in seeing him. If he wanted me gone then I would be gone.

"I can't just up and leave. I have classes."

"So. You used to ditch all the time for hunts."

"This isn't exactly high school, Dean. I can't just up and leave every time I feel like it."

"So you do want to come."

"I don't want to see Dad."

"Then I'll tell Dad I don't need him."

"Right. You told him there are five werewolves out there, that have your scent and you don't need help. He's a lot of things, but that stupid isn't one of them."

"Why does it matter so much if Dad knows we're hunting together anyway?" This was pure Dean. For him, nothing came before family and his normal was the three of us on the road together.

"I pretty much said I didn't want anything to do with the life anymore. If he knew I was hunting again…." I purposefully let my statement trail off. I could practically hear Dean freeze on the other end. He was realizing what it would mean- what me hunting with him meant. I didn't hate the life, the hunting- it was just Dad I didn't want to be around. I couldn't even explain it- maybe it was because I wanted both and Dad was a reminder that hunting usually meant a normal life had been violently ripped away; maybe I just resented him for moving us around so much. I heard the metaphorical glass shatter as Dean realized his version of perfect was never going to happen.

"Right. Well, I gotta go. I'll call you later."

"Dean, if you get into trouble-"

"Yeah, I'll call ok."

_I don't need your help, Sammy_

Well that sucked. As close as were, we still did fight, not as often as most siblings did maybe, but they were more intense, and especially as we had gotten older, ended in one of us storming out. He was stubborn; he rarely admitted needing help, even when it nearly got him killed.

The first hunt we went on without Dad- I was seventeen, Dean was barely able to drink, legally at least- had been nearly fatal. I had never seen Dad quite so angry, but Dean barley flinched at the yelling. At the time it was the pain but I realized after I left that it was because he was used to it- bearing the brunt of Dad's anger. It should have been a simple salt and burn. We didn't even need to figure out where the grave was. Dad figured we could handle it- that it would give us something to do while he took care of something much nastier the next town over. He left the Impala with us, a first.

We arrived at the grave, and both of us began digging. It didn't even occur to us to be standing guard. We had been assured that so far as spirits went this one was downright mild mannered. It had knocked a few things over, scaring the crap out of the homeowners, but was mostly harmless. It just needed a hand moving on. There was no reason to think it would show up, let alone react violently to being helped into the next life, or so we thought as we laid our shotguns next to the grave.

Everything was going to plan until we scraped the top of the casket. The next thing I knew Dean was flying through the air- cracking against the sharp rock of a tombstone.

"Dean!"

"Sammy, just burn the bitch!" Every instinct I had told me to grab my shotgun and blast the spirit full of rock salt before continuing. It's what I should have done. I had never disobeyed a direct order, at least from Dean while on a hunt, and I decided to not start then. I f Dean said he could handle it then he could handle it. I could hear it above me, focusing all its energies onto beating Dean into a bloody pulp. The grunts I heard above me were concerning, and I struggled to pry the lid of the coffin open. Eventually it snapped, and I cursed the plastic they were using to make coffins now.

"Samm- hurr-"his words were cut off at the ends by a gurgle. I got the lid off enough to dump salt on the body. I felt a sharp sting against my face and was alarmed at the shovel I was currently faced with. Another impact, the sound of a dragging body, and the grave behind me lit up in a blur of heat and light. I regained my senses, and saw my brother lying flat against the ground, bloody and barley conscious. I was less aware of the blood dripping down my own face and side from the shovel hits.

"Dean."

"I'm ok, Sam. Jus' a li' sore." He was slurring, and bleeding profusely.

"Come on. You need a hospital." I looped an arm around his waist trying to not jostle him too much. He didn't protest to me half carrying him, which is when I knew he really way hurt. He always objected to it, saying I was likely to hurt him more with my sprawling limbs then he already was. I laid him carefully in the backseat of the Impala, and drove at hunter emergency speed to the ER. The nurses looked shocked as I drug him in, asking immediately what happened."

"Mugged." I grunted out. "We were mugged." They believed me of course, or just didn't want to ask too many questions. They drug Dean away from me, amid rather vigorous protests, insisting they needed to look at me too. I was fine, and I knew it. A bit banged up, but I knew it would be faster if I just held still and let them stitch me up. It seemed to take forever, even after I requested they didn't numb my side before stitching it. When they finally finished I just wanted to get to Dean.

"My brother." For once, the staff didn't argue. The nurse just led me to the trauma bay, and told me to wait in the waiting room. I was terrified. That almost never happened, not when it was family. We were in and out of the ER a lot as hunters, and I knew the drill. I paced, ignoring the pull of the stiches in my side, unable to sit down. I was surprised when Dad came in, about an hour after they had finished stitching me up, dirty, but mostly unscathed.

"Sam."

"Dad. They won't let me back."

"I know. I just talked to the doctor."

"I've been here. Why didn't they get me?"

"He's in pretty bad shape, son. He's in surgery. They're worried he won't make it."

"He will." I was confident. This was Dean, my big brother. The one who had tucked me in every night, and let me have the last bowl of Lucky Charms, who protected me from monsters, real and imagined, and who never let me see the true extent of his pain.

"They were surprised he was even conscious, let alone talking, when you brought him in. He kept asking after you I guess. What happened?"

"The spirit wasn't quite as nice as we were expecting."

"Still shouldn't have been a problem."

"Well, it was."

"We'll talk about this when Dean is awake. He'll tell me what happened." I just turned away, and went to sit on the other side of the waiting room. He was baiting me, and I wouldn't have it. Even I knew it wasn't the time. After what seemed like days the doctor came in.

"Winchester?" He looked grave, not enough that I thought Dean was dead, but enough to worry me.

"Yes." Dad and I both jumped up at the name.

"Your boy is critical. The internal bleeding is stopped, but he's still in a bad way. He's lucky to be alive; we almost lost him once in there."

"But he'll be ok?" I knew I sounded overeager but I couldn't help myself.

"He should make a full recovery. I expect him to be awake soon." The doctor led us to his room, where Dean was hooked up to a variety of machines, looking small and battered among everything. His eyes eventually fluttered open.

"Sammy."

"It's ok, Dean. It's ok."

"Thought you were in trouble."

"It was you who was in trouble."

"You're lucky you're stubborn, boy."

"Not now." I gritted the words out. Dean didn't need this. He knew we had royally messed up and he didn't need to hear it.

"You boys were foolish. I know you left your weapons down. It's the only way that thing could have gotten the better of you."

"Yes, sir."

"You admit it?"

"We messed up. We knew better."

"You'll be lucky if I let you out on a hunt alone again in this lifetime."

"No, sir."

"Excuse me?"

"It was my fault. I learned my lesson. I let it throw me around. Look out for Sammy right?" It was the first time I had ever heard him use his own words against him.

"Not at your expense. Protect yourself. Use your brain, boy."

"I did, sir."

"You damn near got yourself killed, and your brother along with you! You never leave your arms lying on the ground, and you never assume a spirit is friendly. I taught you better than this. Shape up, soldier." Dean went quiet.

_I'll always defend you, Sammy_

The real fight hadn't happened until after Dean was released from the hospital a week later. Dad was getting ancy to get back on the road, and he was furious at Dean. I knew it was, at least partly my fault, and tried to tell him as much. He took a swing at me, for the first time. He said Dean knew better, that it wasn't my responsibility to protect us from it. Dean, still in pain, got between us. He defended me, saying it was his fault. He was in over his head and should have known it. He hadn't asked though. He never did. Later that night, about nine, my phone rang. I was confused when I saw it was Dean.

"Sammy, I need your help."

"What happened?"

"Dad was hurt. He's ok but he can't come next week." I didn't think. It may have been Dean's job to protect me, but it was my job to save him from himself.

"I'll be there."

**A/N: Well that was longer than I planned, and told half as much story as I wanted. That's ok though, I think it was some nice backstory. Thank you so much for reading and all of your positive comments! They make my day better!**


	9. It's Mine, Sammy

Two days later I was gone. Well, one with the full intent of being back. It was uncharacteristically impulsive, and I knew it. My roommate thought I had finally lost my mind. Jess gave me a look that communicated more than she let on. I didn't even know why I was going. Part of me thought it was a little too much a coincidence that Dad was suddenly too injured to hunt. I put the thought quickly out of my mind; getting hurt was part of the job.

"See, Sammy. It's not so bad is it?" We had been on the road for two hours, and had barley said a word to each other.

"Let's just get this done and get home."

"I am home."

"Well, I'm not." I was angry. I didn't want to do be here. I wasn't too worried about missing class or anything- that would be easy enough. I was worried about coming out the other side of this hunt, about being able to go back to normal life. The balance, as much as I loved having it, was a challenge- when I was at Stanford I wanted to be hunting and when I was hunting I wanted to be at Stanford. As for this- I didn't want to be doing it. It broke the most important rule I had for myself when I decided to start hunting again- not during school, ever. I had to set priorities, be cautious- spending breaks with your brother hunting supernatural creatures is one thing, running away from your responsibilities to do it was another, and that was exactly what I was doing- running away from my responsibilities.

"Sam-"

"Dean, no."

"Listen, I get it."

"No, Dean you don't."

"Wanting a normal life? Yeah I do." He looked expectant, like he was actually wanting this to run into a real conversation, the kind of conversation that we had by unspoken agreement as a family decided not to have unless it was absolutely necessary. Part of me knew this was a rare opportunity to actually get to know my brother, that I should take it, but I didn't. I was far too petulant for that.

"This is what makes you happy. You wouldn't have it any other way."

"Listen, Sam if I could change it-"

"But you can't. This is the crap hand we were dealt so let's just deal with it."

"Bitch."

"Jerk. I didn't remember how or when that little ritual came about. I suppose it didn't really matter. Whoever started it usually actually meant the insult, but it was also a peace offering. The response that had been so ingrained in us as to become automatic never failed to soothe tensions that had boiled over. We had settled back into an easy flow by the time we pulled out of a truck stop restaurant a few hours later.

"Come on, man. Let's at least listen to the radio. Get some variety." Dean owned about six tapes and could listen to the same one over and over again for hours. It annoyed the hell out of me and he knew it. Occasionally he would take pity on me and turn the radio on.

"Driver picks the music-"

"Shotgun shuts his cakehole. Yeah, I know." It had been a saying of Dad's when we were little. Dean, for whatever reason, had decided he liked it, and carried on the tradition. I rumbled a bit more, but decided to relax and enjoy the sound of Kansas blasting from the speakers. If I was stuck on this hunt I may as well enjoy it. My irritation couldn't be kept down for long though. About ninety minutes out I began peppering Dean with questions, to help minimize the time we were there I told myself.

"So, how are we going to even find the pack? You killed our only link to them."

"I'd bet the Impala they meet at that diner every day of the week leading up to the full moon."

"Find, but once they smell us though?"

"We shoot."

"With civilians ten yards away?"

"We shoot with accuracy. We know what we're up against. We know what we're doing. We do it and we get out." He was right and I knew it. We had taken care of the messy stuff last time we were here- now we just needed to finish cleaning up. It should be in and out and I would be back by tomorrow evening I also knew how well supposedly easy hunts usually went for us though.

_We've always had bad luck, Sammy._

We pulled into town and checked into a motel. We probably wouldn't really use it, but just in case. That and it was a habit to have something resembling a home base. We prepped our weapons- silver bullets, twenty-four for each of us and a silver blade that one of Dad's few hunter friends had gifted each of us when we turned twelve (we each owned multiple silver knives of course- it came with the territory, but we both preferred to use these whenever possible- a touch of sentiment, I suppose). Nothing else would kill a werewolf. Dean carried his 1911 pistol- white-handled and well-maintained. It wouldn't be much use here, but Dean always carried it. It was the only legal weapon he owned. One time, when I asked him why he carried it, he said he felt exposed without it tucked into the side of his jacket.

We were ready by sunset, and went to the diner I had gotten attacked at the month previously. I immediately recognized the growls I had heard before, as soon as the Impala's doors closed. I motioned to Dean that they would be around the corner, where the green overladen dumpsters were. He nodded and I took the lead, mostly to piss him off. He liked being on point, especially when it was just us- the mantra of watch out for Sammy too deeply ingrained for him to allow anything else.

I moved quietly, ready to fire as soon as I saw them. Behind me, Dean was trying to be silent, but as so often happened there was a noise. An aluminum can had been left on the ground and had gone unseen in the dark alley. I heard a sharp growl and patter of long-nailed paws on the ground. Well, now they knew we were coming.

"Shit." I heard Dean curse behind me and raise his gun. There were five werewolves hurtling at us, teeth and claws bared. I did the only sensible thing left, I fired. I downed two of them, Dean hitting another. I felt the rough impact of the ground as an inhuman mass crashed into me, followed by a strangled "Sammy!"

**A/N: I know it's a little short, but Physics homework beckons! I hope you enjoy and new (hopefully longer) chapter will be up soon! R/R please!**


	10. I'm Sorry, Sammy

"Dean!" I had just barely managed to hold onto consciousness when my head impacted the pavement and the only thing keeping the darkness from creeping in now was the sharp click of fangs just inches above me. I struggled, trying to use my knowledge and superior size to try and gain the upper hand- ultimately the werewolf's inhuman strength kept me pinned down. I heard a shot and a yelp as Dean took down the monster that had gone after him, as I continued to wrestle with mine. I felt claws rip into my chest as I fumbled, fruitlessly for my gun. I was relieved to hear the sharp crack of a gun, and to feel the impact of a bullet. No wait, that wasn't right. I should be feeling the impact of a body. Another crack, and felt the weight I had been expecting. I was aware of my brother standing over me. I could hear the diner's patrons trickling out, drawn by the sound of gunfire.

"Dean."

"Shit, Sammy. It's ok, man, I got you." I was aware of a set of arms wrapping around me, mostly dragging me away.

"Don't bleed out on me," was the last thing I heard before the blackness finally overtook me.

_I didn't mean to hurt you, Sammy._

When I woke up Dean was working on stitching the hole in my shoulder closed. I shifted at the unnatural feeling of silk thread being pulled through my skin.

"Dean?"

"Shh, Sammy. I got you." He hadn't talked to me like that in years, not since-

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?" He was trying to get me talking. I knew from the floaty feeling I was experiencing I was hurt pretty bad, but it must be worse than I thought.

"Wolves. Hit my head. Claws in my chest. You shot me. Told me not to bleed out." My tongue felt heavy, and I didn't want to form complete sentences.

"That's about it. You passed out in the car. Almost took you to the hospital, but were responsive. I'm so sorry, Sammy."

"'S okay." I could feel the stitches on my chest and the front of my shoulder as well as the dried blood, crusty and tacky at the same time.

"Almost done."

"You ok?" I forced myself to talk as normally as possible.

"Yeah."

"Help me wash the blood off?" it itched like mad and was the most annoying thing at the moment.

"Soon as I finish here." I could feel him knotting the thread. He helped me roll over and ease into a sitting position. I let out a sharp breath. He slipped out of my line of sight for a moment, and he returned he had a couple of pills and a glass of water.

"Here, these will help. Stay here, and I'll be right back ok?" I swallowed the pills and drank the water, cringing.

"Not going anywhere." He disappeared and I heard water running. He back over and began cleaning the dried blood off my chest and stomach. Eventually as much blood as possible, mostly my own, was off without me actually taking a shower.

"I'll wake you in a couple hours." I grunted in agreement, and felt him gently pat the top of my head. I sunk into unconsciousness, grateful for my big brother.

_I gotta protect you, Sammy._

True to his word he woke me every few hours through the night. Once when it wasn't necessary due to the concussion but because he wanted to feed me more pain pills.

"Don't want more, Dean."

"You need them. You'll pop a stitch the way you're thrashing around."

"No."

"Quit arguing." I groaned, knowing it was fruitless. I took the pills and dozed back off. At seven, Dean woke me up for real.

"You up to heading out?" I groaned. I doubted I could move, let alone travel.

"Fair enough. Think you can at least shower? You reek."

"Yeah. Help me up." He lifted me up, and honestly supporting most of my weight, helped me to the bathroom.

"Please tell me you got it from here."

"I'll manage." I noted the blood soaked clothes on the floor with most of the motel towels surrounding them, also dyed red.

"Well, if you need me-"

"Will do." I closed the door behind me. I showered with no small amount of pain. I yelped (much to my indignity) so loud when the lukewarm water hit my shoulder that Dean asked if I was still alive. Eventually I managed to get the last of the dried blood and sweat off of me. I reemerged into the main room hoping Dean hadn't used my spare set of clothes to stop the bleeding. I began rooting through my bag.

"Let me check the wounds first."

"Dean." He was already dabbing Winchester disinfectant onto a rag and I knew better than to argue. I hissed as the alcohol hit the still fresh claw marks- the bullet wound in my shoulder stung less.

"Toss me those pills."

"We can stay, Sam." I knew he was willing to, if need be, and despite my own doubts I was in slightly less pain and I wanted to get back.

"I'll be okay. Just watch the bumps." He looked disappointed.

"Do you need to stay? I know you said you weren't hurt, but I was pretty messed up last night."

"I'm fine, Sam. I just don't want to put you in an awkward position." I thought about it for a moment. I had disappeared, seemingly randomly to spend time with my brother, and was coming back less than forty-eight hours later with a gunshot wounds and claw marks running down my chest. There were probably close to sixty stiches in my body right now and I couldn't move my left arm. I was a mess, and I looked it. If I showed up today, looking like this, there would be questions, and a lot of them. Questions I wouldn't have answers to

"Oh, maybe we should stay."

_I'm always right, Sammy._

"Thought so. You want some food?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Anything."

"Anything?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Within reason."

"You'll be good here?" He was internally grumbling my limitation on the food; I could see it.

"I'm sure I'll manage for fifteen minutes. I should call Jess anyway."

"Okay." He slid his gun into the pocket in the interior lining of his jacket and made sure he had his silver knife. "I'll be back soon."

I nodded and flipped through my phone for Jess' number

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

"What's going on?"

"Not much. I'm actually calling to you know I'm going to be a few days longer than expected."

"Oh? Why?"

"Ran into some car trouble." I flinched at the lie.

"Ok." I hated how easily she accepted the lie too; she was just so trusting. "But Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You are coming back right?"

"Yeah, I am. I promise."

"You wouldn't lie about that?"

"I love you." It just came out- I didn't plan to say it. She knew I was lying, of course she did, she knew so much, and she still trusted me to come home.

"I love you, Sam. I can't wait to see you."

"I know, I'll see you in a couple of days." We chatted for a while longer, mostly about her sister's upcoming wedding and classes. Eventually Dean made it back with the food, and we hung up with whispered I love yous.

"Really- love?" I so did not want to have this conversation. It would turn into a warning about how I was putting her in danger, just by being around her, let alone perusing a serious relationship.

"Yeah, I know. I know." I gritted the words out, and braced myself for the upcoming fight, when I noticed a way to prevent it. "Dude, did you really go back to the diner where we killed five people last night?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You could've been recognized."

"It was dark and they didn't even see the car. The same people weren't on shift. Besides it was either there or a place that would've given us food poisoning." One of the many perks of being a hunter- you could tell a place would give you food poisoning without ever leaving the road.

_I'm sick of diners, Sammy_

I grumbled but dug into the giant breakfast platter stuffed into the Styrofoam box with gusto. The scrambled eggs were rubbery but the bacon and hash browns were superb, as were the pancakes. We ate and silence and I squirmed as the gouges in my chest began to burn. I realized I hadn't taken a pain pill after we decided to stay and I really, really needed to.

"You ok, Sammy?"

"I just forgot to take a pain pill earlier."

"Right. Well take one and we'll change the dressing." My least favorite part of getting hurt wasn't the initial injury or even getting stitched up- it was the first dressing change. Blood had always dried on the bandages making it sticky and the wounds were still fresh enough to warrant an ungodly amount of pain when the dressing were removed. We got through though and spent the rest of day watching TV and reliving old hunts. I knew we needed to head back tomorrow and was overjoyed to get back to Jess, but there was a big part of me that didn't want today to end.

**A/N: I apologize if any of the medical stuff in here is inaccurate. Also the first spinoff story in this 'verse is up: "You're Taller Than Me Now, Sammy" so you should check that out. Please R/R.**


	11. We're Hardly Family, Sammy

We were on the road the next morning. I was still sore but had travelled with much worse. I had genuinely missed spending time with my brother- we got along easily and when it came to hunting worked together flawlessly. I was glad Jess was on the other end of this trip, even though she would probably hug me too hard. I wanted to spend the next seven or so weeks in monster-free bliss.

"You know I can't do this again right? I only came because I needed to finish what I started."

"Yeah. You're a part-time hunter-I get it. You gonna come this summer?"

"You want to spend a whole summer away from Dad?"

"Yeah, why not? We barely hunt together anymore anyway. If he really needs me we'll hide you in the bathroom or something. I mentioned seeing you-"

"You what?"

"Like coming to see you since I was on the right coast and he freaked out. I think he really meant it when he said don't come back."

"I knew that."

"You weren't with him after, Sam. He drank himself half to death- said he failed as a father, all kinds of stuff."

"I don't want to talk about it, Dean."

"You can't just avoid him for the rest your life."

_We do what he says, Sammy._

"Yeah, I can."

"Family's important, Sam."

"That's why I'm here."

"Sooner or later." He really wasn't going to let it go. I understood why he thought about it like he did. He knew what living a normal life was like- what it actually meant to have a family.

"Listen, Dean, if the thing that killed Mom gets to Jess or something I'll try not to bitch too much about in the same room as him ok?" Dean snorted at that. It got it us both laughing. The thought of ever finding the thing that killed Mom was laughable, let alone the idea of it ever getting to Jess. It was a ridiculous promise, but it appeased Dean nonetheless.

"Ow, shit."

"What happened?" Dean's voice was sharp and urgent as he noticed the blood beginning to seep through my t-shirt.

"Must have popped a couple stiches laughing."

"Yeah. Let's find a motel."

"Sounds good." Internally I groaned- this meant at least another day away from Stanford; knowing Dean it could be two more days he worried- it was a brother thing. I blamed him when he did it, but did the exact same thing when he was injured. The popped stich was starting to burn, but within twenty minutes Dean had found a motel.

"I'll be right back, Sam. Stay here.

"No. I'm going to go wander around town with a blood stained shirt." It was a running joke between us. The need for subtlety as children had worn on us; we couldn't do anything that would make us stand out to anyone. We understood, of course, why we had to do it, even if we didn't like it. Well, initially I hadn't understood why but Dean explained it to me, in a way a four year old could understand. He had that if we were too bad or too good then people would remember us and if people remembered us too much then Dad could get into trouble. The whole year I was four he look at me with a sadness I knew now didn't belong in an eight year old's eyes. In time he came out of the motel office, jerking me from my reverie by shaking the motel key. We pulled out from the front of the office and thanked our lucky starts that the parking spot directly in front of our room was empty.

We grabbed just our basics and slid into the motel room. I took the bloodstained shirt off as soon as the door closed and chucked it, with my good arm, in the general direction of the trash can. I wondered vaguely how many t-shirts I had left at Stanford, given how many I'd lost on this trip. I looked down and sure enough the gash furthest to the right was missing three of the stiches that had been holding the bruised, mottled skin together. It was bleeding, but nowhere near as badly as the damage my shirt had endured had prompted me to believe. Dean was pulling out the medical kit as well as the bottle of whiskey we kept around for these situations. It would hurt. There was no way around it- the first time I'd ever seen Dad cry was getting a popped stitch repaired by a ten year old Dean. Admittedly that was the first time Dean had ever done stiches on a person, but it still hurt like a bitch even when you knew what you were doing.

"Just hand me the whiskey now."

"So demanding Sammy. Maybe I shouldn't let you have any- you are underage."

_Have a beer, Sammy._

I knew he wasn't serious, that he was just trying to lighten the mood a bit, but I was still annoyed. I was sore as it was and I knew this wouldn't help. I may as well be a little bit buzzed before we even got started.

"Dean, I swear-"

"Oh, calm down. You know I was going to give it to you."

"Yeah, right." I took a swig out of the proffered bottle. I hated the burn of cheap whiskey but it got the job done that it needed to. Dean removed the stiches carefully, ignoring my constant hisses of pain. I grabbed the bottle and lurched forward, spilling half the remaining liquid on Dean when I felt the needle unexpectedly pierce my skin.

"Damn it, Dean. Give a guy some warning would you?"

"Would it have helped?"

"No." I drank.

"Then quit being a baby and let me finish."

"Yes, Dad." He glared at me with dark eyes and jabbed the next stitch through a little harder than strictly necessary, but to his credit didn't actually say anything. I was fully aware of how low a blow that was, and that I should probably apologize for it. It would probably make things worse though- comparing Dean to a parent was a big mistake and I knew it. It brought up old issues, old events we didn't dare discuss. I had been lost enough in my thoughts that I quit noticing the sting of the needle until Dean tied a neat surgeon's knot at the end.

"There. I'm gonna go some food- you need it. Just drank what- a third of a fifth of whiskey?" I glanced at the bottle sitting innocently on the cheap motel table and shrugged.

"Eh, spilt a bunch of it." I absently took another drink, even though I really didn't need to now.

"I'll be back." The air between us was silted and I knew why. Dean was angry. As much as he tried to be like Dad he never wanted to be exactly like him. I felt like crap for saying it, and I already knew he wouldn't want to talk about it. I settled for soothing myself with the old Winchester standby- alcohol.

I was bored. I hadn't seen the outside of a motel room for three days, save for when we'd been in the Impala. I flipped the TV on, trying to stay and behave myself. I needed to get back to Stanford. It didn't even matter about the questions Jess and my other friends would ask. I wanted to get back to normal. I briefly considered calling Jess, but decided I was too drunk to make that decision. I wondered where Dean was.

The door swung open, and I fumbled for gun. I laughed when I saw Dean.

"That took a while."

"I was gone for twenty minutes." There was no emotion in his voice as he plopped down a burger and fries in front of me. "Eat up." He carried his own food over to the other bed and plopped down, grabbing the remote from my side. I laughed again.

"I think I'm drunk, D." I took a bite of the burger.

"Yeah, you are."

"I haven't been drunk since before I left for school."

"Yeah, Sammy. Shut up and be drunk ok?" I hummed in response, knowing that when he got big brother authoritative on me I should be quiet. The show we were watching was some stupid hospital drama. I ate my burger, happily and eventually dozed off. I woke up to the loud scream of the alarm clock and a wave of nausea. I stumbled blearily to the bathroom and proceeded to reacquaint myself with last night's burger. I groaned my head was throbbing and felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

"Good morning, Sammy!" Dean voice was bright, sing-songy, and distinctly annoying. He had done this every time I had a hangover since the first time I had gotten drunk- it made the experience that much more unpleasant. At least wasn't angry enough to not do it.

"Shut up."

"Nope. We're going out for breakfast."

"I hate you." I stood up and went to the door.

"Yep. Now get dressed." I did as he said. Dean's cure-all for hangovers was greasy breakfast, and I knew there was no way I was going to escape it. The fasted I choked it down, the faster we'd be back on the road.

"Just let me call Jess, first." I knew she was in class, and I wasn't surprised to get her answering machine. I left a quick message saying I would be back that night. We ate quickly and almost silently the previous night still on our minds. We hit the road and eventually I couldn't take the heavy silence anymore.

"I was half-drunk. I didn't mean it."

"We're not talking about this Sammy." He turned the music up, making his point clear.

_Just stop talking, Sammy!"_

The hours drug on in silence. It was uncommon, especially after a hunt like this where we'd been hurt, and had our expectations turned on their heads, for it to be tense, but there was a underlying current to the silence that I was unfamiliar with. Eventually we arrived back in Palo Alto, where I made a split second decision.

"Want to get some dinner?"

"Sure. You want to meet Jess? He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. It was the equivalent to bringing her home to meet the parents, and neither of us had so much as accidently brought a significant other home since I was 14 and brought a lab partner to the latest crappy apartment we were staying in and later made out with her in said crappy apartment. Asking for him to meet her was an unprecedented move, it was huge, and I knew it.

"You sure, Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Then why not?" I called her quickly, before Dean had the chance to change his mind.

"Sam?"

"Hey babe. We're back in town."

"Good."

"You want to have dinner with Dean and me?"

"I'd love to, but I have that review session tonight."

"Right. I forgot. Maybe next time."

"Yeah. I'll see you later?"

"Of course. I'll come by after."

"Alright. See you then."

"See you." I hung up, grinning just from hearing her voice. Dean looked at me blankly

"You're off the hook." I could see him let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God. I mean, I'm sure she's a great girl, Sam, but I'm not ready for that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Are you thinking of telling her the truth?" I could tell what answer he was expecting.

"I had, but I can't do that to her. I think she suspects something, but she deserves the innocence."

_What were you thinking, Sammy?_

He nodded- he understood; he was the only one who could.

"To that one diner?"

"I'm sick of diners."

"Ok, fine. Then pick a place."

"Just go to an Applebee's or something." I had never liked diner food. It didn't matter what you ordered, it was always covered in grease. I had long maintained that if we didn't die young and bloody we would die young with clogged arteries. Dying young was always the given. Dean on the other hand, loved the food and had a favorite diner in every state we'd ever been to. If I hadn't been around to make sure he (and Dad, if I was being honest) ate vegetables besides the wilted lettuce, watery tomatoes, and French fried that accompanied his typical burger fare he would have died of malnutrition years ago. He pulled into one of the many chain restaurants that littered the streets of a college town. Dean glared at the menu for a little while before ordering a rack of ribs while I settled on an Asian-inspired salad. We chatted aimlessly over dinner, and by the time we finished we were ready to be out of each other's hair.

"Well this disaster of a hunt is over." We were safely ensconced within the Impala and were leaning back in the seats as the heat rattled on- the blue Lego hitting the red one repeatedly tonight.

"It wasn't that bad. We got them didn't we?"

"I shot you."

"That part could have gone better, yes."

"Will you need help getting the stiches out?"

"Yeah. Can't do the ones in my back."

"Right. I'll go take care of that spirit in San Fran then come back in about a week?"

"Sure. Just give me a call."

"Yeah." We were on campus now, and I was surprised he was driving me all the way to my dorm. I grabbed my duffel, substantially lighter than when I left. I was glad to be done with this hunt. Everything we ever suspected about monsters was wrong, and I was still hurting from my injuries. I shut the door (gently) and turned to walk into the building. I heard the Impala's window slide down and turned around.

"Sammy, I look forward to meeting her!"

"See you next week!" I grinned and turned, knowing that we'd be just fine.

**A/N: So from here the story can go two way 1) Jess finds out the truth and canon alters completely or 2) She doesn't, and things stay as they are, just with the boys hunting together. Odds are I'm going to write both with one being an AU to this one, but I'm not sure which route I want to take w/ this story, so basically which do you want to see first? Anyway I hope you enjoyed this nice long chapter, and I hope it'll make up for the fact that I'm about to get slammed with school stuff and may not have time to write. Look forward to hearing from you all!**  
i off the hook."kly.t from hearing her voice. dean . ment we were stayinidently brought a significant other home since i n


	12. This Sucks, Sammy

It felt good to be back at Stanford- the familiar flow of classes, parties, and Jess felt good, normal even. Jess had gasped slightly when I explained about the sheer number of stiches in my body, but simply said she would help me change the bandages on my back. Her quiet acceptance of my injuries alarmed me; to the point that I may have done a few tests to make sure Jess was Jess when she slept one night. I knew she suspected that there was something I wasn't telling her, she had to- I just didn't understand why she didn't ask what it was. Her perpetual curiosity was part of what interested me in her- she always wanted to know why. I guessed that she figured it may be possible she didn't want to know what I did with my brother, that she was afraid of the answer. She was right there-she didn't want to know. I counted my lucky stars she didn't ask, because if she asked me directly- what we did, why I came back injured, why I was always armed I wasn't sure I would be able to lie. As much as I wanted her to maintain that innocence I wanted her safe more, and if she asked there would be no choice. She needed to be able to protect herself- I put her in danger just by knowing her name.

When Dean arrived a week later to take out the stiches he had asked after her, if he was going to get to meet her. I told him the truth- she was in San Diego for the weekend with her sister doing a fitting for her bridesmaid dress, and helping taking care of some the last minute wedding details. I would be headed down with her the next weekend for the actual wedding. I was nervous as hell; I would be meeting her family for the first time, and desperately didn't want to mess it up. He joked about me making her up, but otherwise didn't say much more about her.

"So where are you headed after this?"

"There are a couple of ghouls in rural Vermont I'm gonna go help Dad with."

"Sounds disgusting."

"They're ghouls." I had yet to meet a hunter who enjoyed hunting ghouls. Everyone has the creature that brought some perverse joy to kill, but ghouls were nasty business. No one wanted to hunt them, and they only did because it was practically a job requirement. Dean finished pulling out the last of the stiches, and I stretched properly for the first time in 10 days.

"Thanks."

"Yeah. Just try not to become Frankenstein's monster next time."

"Try not to shoot me next time." It probably should have bothered me we could joke about accidently shooting each other, but I accepted it as part of the odd balance I had managed to strike. Dean laughed.

"I'll try not to." We joked a bit more and I insisted on showing him around campus as he had really only seen the dorm and the library. Eventually though we both realized he probably needed to leave.

"Another six weeks."

"Yeah. You'll make it."

"It's not running out of things to do that I'm worried about."

"You were right, Sam. Ii can't ask you to leave school whenever."

"Don't worry about it Dean. It's what needed to be done."

"It's just- you have a life here. Somehow you've managed to find a way to have both worlds and I can't let you mess that up."

"I won't, Dean. I mean I have a reason to keep coming home you know."

"I still don't believe she hasn't run."

"She's thought about I'm sure. I came back with a gunshot wound for Christ's sake."

_We need to run, Sammy._

"You're still not going to tell her?"

"I'm starting to think you want me to, but no. If she asks about it, that'll change things but-"

"Then pray she doesn't ask. Don't want you to lose her."

"I won't."

"Be safe."

"You too. Enjoy Vermont." He climbed into the Impala and drove off. I sighed, half of me wishing I was in the passenger seat- the price I paid. Deep down I knew that sooner or later I would have to choose, that I couldn't keep straddling these two worlds forever. I wasn't too attached to most of my life at Stanford- I had a few friends and a roommate who had started behaving oddly after Thanksgiving. I could leave all behind and not look back, but I couldn't leave Jess. I'd been irresistibly drawn to her since day one- it was her height that first attracted to me to her; she came to my shoulder in flats. Then I got to know her, and her spunk and vitality became everything I needed to see in the world. Part of me, of course, saw that she would make an amazing hunter-she was shockingly physical, and resourceful. I never wanted to see her in that life, though- no one deserved that life.

It was a few weeks later, after the wedding, on a Friday that so many of my greatest fears came true at once. We were walking home from a party, laughing. I felt normal for once, walking behind Jess, my arms around her, acting like we were, well, in love. We were both a little buzzed, pleasantly so, and we were happy. I bent down to nuzzle her neck, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye in the alley we were passing, and it was headed towards us. I froze and Jess looked at me, then down the alley.

"Sam?"

"Do as I say, Jess." I felt her tense in my arms and I prepared to shove her behind me. I found myself praying that this would just be a run of the mill mugging. I could handle even the most experienced, armed mugger in my sleep. I was glad Jess hadn't questioned me, most people would have, but she knew whatever it was that she knew intuitively- she trusted me to protect her. I kept repeating to myself that it was just a run of the mill mugging. We would get away unharmed, and with the twenty dollars in our combined wallets to boot. I kept telling myself that in spite of the fact that every instinct and every hunter sense I possessed was telling me differently- practically screaming it at me. I was shocked when it was Brady, my roommate, that came out of the alley. I relaxed, just a little, still hoping that the pieces that had just clicked into place in my head weren't true.

"God, Brady, make some noise, man. You scared the crap out of us." He was standing in the shadows still, his eyes hidden, but street light wasn't glinting off of them right- they were far too dark for that. I gripped Jess more tightly- she was tense, she knew something was wrong. I knew she'd have questions after this; questions I would have to answer, no matter how much I didn't want to.

_Least one of us is good at Latin, Sammy._

"That was my intention, Sammy."

"It's Sam." I was reaching for the holy water, as I muttered, "Christo." Brady's body flinched, and I knew.

"You bastard." I glanced down at her, and grinned. She had no idea what was going on, and she was still taunting him, following my lead.

"Ah, she is a feisty one. I supposed to wait you know, to kill her- orders from the top. Make it hurt more, but it's just too good to resist." I shoved Jess behind me, as I had been prepared to do, as he stepped into the light, black eyes glinting.

"Brady, you don't have to do this."

"Brady's gone, Sam. Didn't even last a day after I took over the meat suit. You really should choose more durable friends." We were in a tight spot- a homicidal demon, no devil's trap and I was stalling for time as I struggled to remember the exorcism chant. I felt Jess touch my waist- she was scared. Of course she was- sometimes I forgot most people weren't used to almost dying, or even being in situations where dying was even remotely possible on a regular basis. I reached down to give her hand a soft squeeze.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you."

"Oh, I count on it. She was supposed to burn on the ceiling like Mommy."

"Like hell." Brady flicked his hand towards Jess, and she gasped. Obviously Jess' words had made him decided that he was done playing. The words I was searching for welled up.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

"Oh please, Sammy. You think you'll manage to get all of that out, without a Devil's trap?" He lunged, going for me now.

"Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister" He screamed, but caught my cheek nonetheless. "Omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt." He got a few more swings in, impacting me. I had Jess against the back wall of the alley, shielding her from the demon. I grunted, and continued reciting.

"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos." The body screamed, and collapsed as the black smoke exited and dissipated. He was dead, yet another casualty of knowing the Winchesters. Jess was leaning heavily on me, clutching her side, and confused and terrified. I wrapped my arms around her as carefully as I could, enveloping her, and pressed a kiss to the top her head.

"Sam what was that?" Yep, here were the questions. They needed answers, someplace safer than here.

"I'll answer everything baby. Let's get somewhere safe first." I grabbed her hand and moved quickly. We'd probably be one before they found Brady's body in the alley probably in a few days. We were back in my dorm, and I was spreading salt, much to Jess' confusion.

_Always keep salt around, Sammy._

"Sam?" I went to sit on the bed next to her. She was cross-legged leaning against the wall.

"Let's see those injuries." She touched the side of my face.

"You're bleeding."

"I'm okay. Did he crack a rib?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Let me see." I gently lifted her shirt, and although there was a dark purple bruise I knew she was okay, physically at least.

"Please tell me what that was."

"A demon."

"A what?"

"A demon."

"What did it want with me?"

"I'm not sure. You know me though, so it could be anything."

"If I hadn't seen it I'd think you were crazy."

"Yeah, yeah I know."

"So your brother-"

"We hunt supernatural beings, yeah." I sighed and ran my hands over my thighs.

"The injuries, all the scars."

"I was attacked by a werewolf, then Dean accidently shot me a few weeks ago. The scars on my chest, the ones I told you were from a mugging, those were from a wendigo."

"How did you get involved- I mean, it's not exactly the sort of thing you stumble into."

"My mom was killed when I was baby. She burned on the ceiling, and we don't what it was. My dad is hell-bent on finding it."

"Right."

"Jess, I never wanted this. For you to know, to be a part of this world, but you're at risk. They know where I am, and for whatever reason they want to you."

"We need to leave."

"I know it's a lot to throw at you, and now I'm asking-"

"Sam, I understand. Well, not really. I'm confused as hell, and I have so many questions I don't even know which one to ask first. I trust you though, and getting you safe is the most important thing. There's time for the answers." I threw my head back, allowing it to impact the wall. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

"Let me call Dean. He'll come get us, then we need to get you packed. I'm so sorry Jess, you have no idea." She just handed me my phone. I punched in the number.

"Dean Winchester."

"Dean."

"Sammy?"

_You're scaring me, Sammy._

"Yeah."

"This is the emergency cell."

"I know."

"What happened?"

"We were attacked. There was a demon, and it wanted Jess dead. We're warded in now, but I'm gonna need to take Jess to get packed. I'm freaking out here, man."

"I'm on my way. What does she know?" Sure enough, I hear the Impala's engine kick it up a gear.

"As much as I could fit into the ten minutes we've had."

"Get her stuff. I'll be there in two hours." The phone went silent. I was aware of the silent tears falling down Jess' face. I enveloped her in my arms again.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

"We're really going to just leave everything behind?"

"We have to. It sucks, believe me, you have no idea, but we have to." This was the reaction I had expected, the one that made sense. She buried her face in my chest, snuffling every few minutes, but eventually, given some time she managed to pull herself together. We went out, carefully- Jess with the chant slipped up her sleeve, and holy water in her pocket now, to get her packed. It was a quick affair. Practical clothes, toiletries, and a few sentimental items. I looked at her sadly, knowing she would be living out of that bag for a long time to come. This wasn't fair. I get that we were dealt a crap hand, but why did it have to reach her? She didn't deserve this life, and she didn't deserve to find out about it like this. We moved quickly across campus, after she had given one more forlorn glance at her room. We barricaded ourselves in until Dean called.

"I'm downstairs."

"We're coming." We went down; I didn't bother glancing back at the room I'd shared with Brady. I splashed holy water in Dean's face when we got there; sparking an irritated look.

"Really, Sammy?"

"Sorry. I'm just a little keyed up." Jess glared at me.

"Jessica Moore. I'm assuming you're this jerk's brother." I shifted uneasily.

"Dean Winchester. Welcome to our merry little band."

**A/N: So by universal vote, we have this. We'll see Jess learn some things, have some actual Jess/Dean interaction next time, and a very guilty Sam. I'd love to hear what you all thought, so review please. Also credit goes to the Supernatural wiki for the exorcism chant.**


	13. Accept It, Sammy

We drove for hours, mostly east, occasionally dipping south or north as the occasion warranted. I could feel in my gut that we had just wandered into something big, bigger maybe than we had been involved in. Demons were annoying yes, they liked to possess people, and those people didn't usually survive, but in general they were just having their version of fun. They never targeted someone specifically, at least none that we'd ever heard of, and Brady, well whatever had been wearing his body anyway, had made it seem like it was a part of something bigger. I sat in the back with Jess, holding her close. A lot had happened and I knew she was scared and confused. She was shaking, and for a while I felt her tears seep into my shirt. I wished there was more I could do to comfort her; I wanted desperately to tell her that this was all a bad dream, and everything would be ok in the morning. Eventually she drifted into a fitful sleep. Quietly I whispered to Dean what happened, and as I finished his face changed to one of determination and he hit the gas harder.

I knew Dean was aware of what I had already figured out. There was no need to communicate it aloud. We were in deep. Eventually, as the sun rose, and we pulled into a random town in Utah, Dean couldn't drive anymore, Jess was awake and carsick, more from stress than anything, and I hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours. It was time for a break. I went to get the motel room, trusting Dean to protect Jess. We needed to talk about what we were going to do, because somehow I felt going back to Stanford wasn't going to be an option. I had always known the life would come back for me; I just never expected it to take Jess too. I knew we would talk, after a hot shower and sleep. We both needed it, and my cheek stung from where Brady had hit me. I should probably make sure it didn't need stitches, despite the assurances I had murmured to Jess after we were attacked.

As I waited for the room, I looked out the front of the window. The Impala was parked as close to the office as we could get, and I could see clearly. Jess and Dean were actually talking. She was leaning over the seat, and Dean had actually turned to face her. He laughed, and I wondered what she had said. I assumed it was something I had done- there were several moments from the wedding I knew that Dean would find classic. I felt a pang of guilt shoot through me- that was going to be the last time she likely saw her family, I supposed it was at least a good memory. I just couldn't get over how unfair it was. I had been involved in this life since before I was out of diapers, and I had accepted that I would be a hunter, even if I didn't necessarily always like the idea. Jess though, she came from a suburb in San Diego, she had grown up normal, graduated, and gotten into Stanford. The only reason she was here was because she had decided to fall in love with me. Eventually the clerk finished running the illegal credit card, and handed me the room key. I yanked open the car door, and slammed it, letting out some of the built up anger.

"Baby doesn't need the abuse, Sam." I turned to stare at Jess.

"Not you too." I loved the car, I really did- I had grown up in it, but I drew the line at calling it Baby.

"I knew I'd like her. Good job, Sammy." Well, at least Dean and Jess got along well enough. It was the least I could ask for, as they were going to be stuck together for a while.

"So, this is where we're staying." I could hear the wariness in her voice, and I didn't blame her. I forced myself to see the motel from her perspective, and I knew it was a place that under normal circumstances she would probably be nervous just driving by. By our standards, it was relatively nice- the sheets probably wouldn't have any questionable stains, the bathroom would be reasonably clean, and the TV might even work- and, I figured that it was for that reason Dean had picked it. He was trying to ease her into the life, and I found myself grateful for his perception. One of us had it at least, and I knew that it wasn't me right now.

"Yeah. It's nice, so far as these things go. You get used to it." She looked at me with dark eyes. I didn't know how I was going to do this to her, and I hoped after a few hours of sleep it would make more sense.

_We don't have to do it, Sammy_

We opened the door, and I was surprised by how nice it was, comparatively speaking.

"Shit." I turned to look at Dean, questioningly. There was absolutely no reason for his outburst.

"What?"

"Did we need to get a rollaway bed or something? I mean, are you guys, you know, good with sharing?" He was stammering. I wondered why he even brought it up. Oh, _oh_, that's why he was being awkward. He didn't know how comfortable we were with each other, if we had actually slept, and just slept together, and he probably didn't want to think about it.

"We'll be fine." I grinned, and glanced down at Jess. She looked slightly embarrassed. She looked at me and shrugged. I guess she wouldn't be smiling for a while. As hard as it was for me to have to bring her into this there was a part of me that was relieved. I didn't have to choose. I could have Jess and hunt, at least for now. We walked in, and got settled- salting the door and windows, putting our knives under our pillows. I looked at the pillow where Jess was sleeping forlornly, wishing she had a weapon she could call her own.

"I'm gonna go shower." She gave me a worried look. I just nodded at her, knowing she wasn't comfortable in the world she thought she knew. She wasn't asking permission, she was seeking reassurance. The door closed, and I heard the shower turn on.

"Here." I looked up, to see Dean handing me his 1911.

"Why are you giving me this?"

"It's not for you, bitch. It's for Jess, until we can get something for her."

"Right, jerk."

"Are you ok, man? I mean, after last night?"

"Actually, can you take a look at my cheek; I think it might need stiches." He sat down next to me on the bed, and inspected my face.

"That's not what I meant, Sammy. You had to tell her."

"I never wanted this life for her, and now it seems like we may not have a choice. There's still a lot she doesn't know- she may decide to go her own way, still."

"You gonna talk to her about it?"

"I don't have a choice. After some sleep though."

"Think it just might need some butterfly bandages." He wandered over and pulled out the kit. He dabbed on the antiseptic, and I hissed.

"It's the guilt. She doesn't deserve it."

"No one does. No one asks for it. It seems like she might be a damn good hunter, if that's the way she chooses to go."

"It's my fault." I hadn't heard the shower turn off as Dean patched me up.

"No it's not. It's not anyone's fault. What's happening is what's happening. Dean, move let me do it." I expected Dean to argue, not move out of the way, handing Jess the bandage he was getting ready to apply to my face.

"Jess-"

"Sam, shut up. You haven't slept since the night before last. I'm finally clean, and I could use some sleep. Now come to bed, and we can talk to later." Dean stood in the corner looking impressed. I shot him a look that said he really shouldn't say anything.

"First, do you know how to shoot?"

"I know the theory. Never actually done it."

"Hopefully you won't have to; until we can get you somewhere you can practice."

"Like a shooting range?"

"No." I shuddered at the memory of the last shooting range we had been to. I showed her the basics of the gun- namely the safety, and the trigger- the only thing she'd need to know if something got past the salt lines. I also emphasized that the gun was Dean's other baby, and he was rather attached it. She nodded, before crawling into bed, and slipping it under her pillow. I was barley awake, and was grateful for the opportunity to finally sleep. Before rolling over to face Jess I noticed Dean had flopped down on the bed, still fully dressed.

"Dude, at least take your boots off."

"Nope." I rolled over and was surprised when Jess was inches from me.

"I'm not going to be able to sleep without being close to you." I opened my arms, and she settled into the crook of my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around her, knowing it would be numb when we woke up if she stayed there. I felt her breathing even out beside me, and I let myself drift off, trusting we were safe.

I woke up four hours later, about nine am, I guessed. Jess was still on my shoulder, and I was unable to turn to look at the clock properly. Sure enough my arm was numb, and I arched my back, stretching as best I could without waking her. She stirred beside me anyway. I kissed her forehead.

"Hey, baby."

"It wasn't a dream was it?"

"No, no it wasn't." I heard Dean stirring in the bed next to me.

"Well, I guess it's time for some questions then."

"Yeah it is, I guess. But Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get off my arm? I can't feel it." She rolled off it, sitting up in the bed.

"What's going on?"

"Honestly Dean, I don't know why I let you sleep by the door."

"It's 'cuz I'm the oldest."

"He's never happy when he wakes up." I explained to Jess, realizing that she didn't know Dean's quirks yet, that she had barely met him.

"Sam, you're stalling." I knew she was right. I had promised that I would answer her questions, but now that I was faced with the actual prospect of doing so I found myself dreading it.

"Yeah. I can't avoid it anymore can I?"

"Not really." I shot Dean a look, trying to communicate that some alone time would really be appreciated. He nodded, and I was relieved.

"I'm gonna go get some food, and coffee you guys want anything?" Jess wanted pancakes, and I found myself craving chicken fried steak, my ultimate comfort food, as well as coffee all around. Goodness knows we needed it. Dean grabbed his jacket, and the .22, before heading out the door.

"So you guys are always armed?" She was starting out light, and even. I was grateful. This was shaky ground, she was never supposed to know about this, and she seemed to sense that.

"Yeah. To the teeth. I never had a gun on campus, but there was always holy water in my jacket, plus a silver knife, as well as an iron one in my shoe."

"These things are everywhere then. So you guys are into it because your mom died, but is there anyone else doing, whatever this is?"

"Hunting. There are a surprising number of hunters; my father has managed to make it so most of them won't have anything to do with the Winchester family if they don't have to. Bobby Singer is the only one who will still even talk to us, and he's a pretty good friend I guess."

"So when you said you didn't want to go into the family business?"

"I didn't want to hunt, not full time. My dad and I fought since I was twelve, and I was sick of it. I needed to get away, and Stanford seemed like the perfect place to do it. I should have known that it would follow me."

"So there's demons. What else is out there- I mean are all the legends true?" I was happy she was taking this well. I wasn't surprised; I felt more like I was confirming her suspicions then I was informing her of a whole new world.

"Werewolves, witches, shtriga, shape shifters, black dogs, poltergeists, pagan gods, ghouls, spirits, just about anything you can think of. Oddly, we've never seen vampires."

"Right. Of course, vampires aren't real."

"Jess, when I showed up hurt all those times, what did you think?"

"I didn't know what to think. I saw claw marks, bullet wounds. Part of me had put two and two together, but that stuff couldn't be real. I guess I was wrong."

"You're taking it all so well. It's just-"

"Unusual? I'm surprising myself here, Sam. We won't be able to go back."

"No-"

"It wasn't a question. I mean we disappear the same night Brady turns up dead, it doesn't look good does it? I won't be able to see my family again will I?"

"Jess, I'm so sorry. This isn't fair to you. If you want I can take you back. You can say I kidnapped you."

"No. I'm staying. I mean there's a demon after me, and who better to protect me than you?"

"God, I love you."

"I'm not going anywhere Sam. We'll figure this out. More questions are going to come up, you know that right?"

"Yeah I do. We'll take them as they come?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure about this? It's not something that really lets you flit in and out. I've tried it- it doesn't work."

"I don't have a choice. Do people get hurt by these things? Everyday people, who don't fall in love with hunters?"

"Every day."

"I can't let them get hurt. I'm too much of a bleeding heart for that. It seems like it may actually be the safest option for me, too. Knowing how to protect myself from these things, knowing how to identify them. I'm going to become a hunter, not because I feel like I'm obligated to stay with you either, so don't pull that."

"I never thought I'd see the day that someone chose this life, and that it was actually the most logical option for them."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess."

"If you ever want out-"

"Quit trying to talk me out of it. I'm terrified. I should be. There's just this whole world out there I didn't know about. I need to know."

"Perpetual curiosity."

"Yep. So what kills these things?"

"This and that. There's a lot of iron and salt to be had, and silver."

"Silver?"

"Mostly for werewolves and shape shifters. There's other things too."

"How do you pay for that stuff?"

"Uh, well, honestly?"

"Well, I think lying at this point is certainly out."

"Mostly identity theft. We hustle pool and darts a lot too. Dean does poker sometimes." She looked concerned for the first time at that.

"That'll take some getting used to. I've never played pool, but well, you've played poker with me."

"Don't remind me." I had never been good at poker, and I had always assumed it due at least partially to the fact that I usually only played with people who were really good. I had decided to try my luck once with Jess, at strip poker- I had lost, badly. I was down to my boxers while she had her socks off. I would have to get her to play with Dean, see if she could really hold her own- if she could those two at the same table would be a benefit to us. The door swung open, unexpectedly, and Jess went for her gun, and had it pointed at the door faster than I could have.

"Wow, wow. It's just me. Jumpy much?"

"Sorry."

"It's all good. Been a hectic couple of days." Dean was balancing three Styrofoam boxes and a drink carrier precariously. I lifted myself off the bed, and took the coffees before they fell. I nearly gagged at the smell of the coffee.

"God, these aren't all black are they?"

"Calm down, Sammy. There's your massively sugar addled mess in there too."

_It'll always just be us, Sammy_.

"It's called cappuccino, Dean."

"Whatever. It's disgusting. Jess, I didn't know how you took it, so I just got it black."

"That's perfect. Strong?"

"Reasonable." Jess always took her coffee black. I found it disgusting; I liked my coffee sweet. I guess it was an indulgence, given my obsession with all other forms of healthy food.

"So, did you have enough time to talk?" I nodded, still not ready to say aloud what Jess had decided. I knew it hadn't really thought it through yet, that sooner or later it would hit her. She was right in that she needed to be able to defend herself, from whatever was after her though.

"I decided to join you guys. I can't stand the thought of all those people who are getting hurt, and don't have a hunter around to protect them." Dean raised an eyebrow, surprised by her decision.

"Alright then. We need to start getting you trained up." I glanced at Dean.

"Sam, it's not your decision."

"No, but-"

"Quit with the guilt trip. You said yourself you'd be ok with it if it came down to this, and it has." I looked at him stunned. He and Jess had begun to dig into the pile of food stuffed into the boxes. I grabbed mine, and went to sit on the bed. I needed to sulk.

"Has he always been a little bitch about this stuff?"

"Pretty much. You quit noticing it after a few years."

"Right."

"So do you have any idea how to fight?"

"I took a self-defense class with Sam this semester. It's not much, but-"

"It's a start. How are you with weapons?"

"I've never had occasion to use them."

"Do you happen to have a knack for languages?"

"Now you're talking my speed."

"You'll be useful with research. There's nothing worse than having to translate stuff."

"I can learn. It'll be fun."

"I like your attitude. We'll have you making salt shells in no time."

"Salt shells?"

"Useful for stopping spirits. They can't stand salt. We fill shotgun shells with rock salt, and it causes them to dissipate for a while."

"Right. What else is salt good for?"

"Demons can't cross it as you know, neither can spirits. A salt circle is always useful."

"Right. So what do I need to know to actually be good at this- a quick list."

"The ability to shoot, accurately, knife skills, hand-to-hand combat, knowing how to take care of your weapons, multiple archaic languages, first aid skills, a good memory, the ability to think on your feet, physical and mental strength. A loose sense of morals helps."

"So a lot to learn basically."

"Yeah. You'll get it, I'm sure."

"Right. I saw Sam last night. He's good at it."

"We were raised in this life. I made a sawed-off when I was 12. Most hunters don't live long enough to get the kind of experience we have." He was telling her about our relatively short life expectancy.

"Dean-"

"Someone has to tell her, Sammy."

_You'll figure it out, Sammy_

"That's not what-"

"Yes it is, Sam. You can't protect me from it." I sat back, resigned. I just let Dean handle it. I really felt like it was more than I could handle this time, and I needed my brother to fix it. I wanted to go back and change it. I wanted that normal life. I'd rather give up hunting, then face life with Jess as a hunter. The next week or so passed in a blur of self-loathing. I had to admit to myself that Jess was good at it. She learned her new gun quickly, and handled like it was an extension of herself. She memorized the exorcism chant in two days, and took Dean out when they fought. He had initially been surprised by her physicality, had gone easy on her, and when he sat there on his butt stunned I had laughed. It had snapped me out of my funk, and I began helping to train her. It was crash course, but there were just somethings you could only learn in the field. I resigned myself to the fact that she had learned just about all she could learn without actually being involved with a hunt.

**A/N: I officially have the rest of this story planned out, and am starting on planning the sequel. There's just too much I want to do with this 'verse. R/R please, and thank you!**


	14. I Didn't Mean To, Sammy

I knew we wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. As Jess got better, not just with her gun, but with everything that being hunter involved I knew I would have to face it. We would have to go on a proper hunt soon, and I could see Jess knew it. I had been teaching her to do research, looking for the certain cues that indicated it may be our kind of thing. Somehow there didn't seem to be too much going on in the area. I knew she was widening the search on her own, and Dean was flat out encouraging her. She decided to walk to the diner we had been frequenting to get dinner. I wasn't too worried- I knew that she could protect herself by now, and had gotten quite adept at keeping weapons on her person.

"Sam, how long are you going to sulk over this?"

"Until she realizes she'll never be able to see her family again."

"Ok fine, she's taking this a little too well, but you're hovering. She's going to be fine. You have to let her hunt."

"What if she gets hurt?"

"It's a part of the job. The only reason you haven't found anything is because you don't want to."

"I don't know if I'd be to handle it."

"You've patched me up, you've patched Dad up, you've patched up half the hunters in the country. If you weren't in love with her it wouldn't even be an issue. Start seeing as her a hunter, as one of us."

"Fine, you want to hunt so bad- we'll find something."

"Keep it simple."

"Now who's worrying?"

"Not worrying. Just lazy."

_Women in white are the reason hunters don't have significant others, Sammy._

I groaned, but did actually start trying. Jess returned with the food, and I widened the search. I wasn't surprised when it was Jess that noticed the pattern that I had been staring at for the past fifteen minutes.

"Men. All in their late 20s, disappearing on the same road, every April 23rd for twenty years- is that what we're looking for?" I went over, and scanned through the articles she had open, and glanced over at Dean who was lounging on the bed. He shrugged, noncommittally.

"Were there any strange deaths in the area twenty years ago?"

"Some lady killed her husband and kids then drowned herself in a nearby river." Dean sat bolt upright up at that, and we looked at each other than back to Jess.

"Lady in white."

"Yep."

"And we have bait."

"Wow, someone explain to the new girl." I turned to Jess, trying to keep the grin off my face.

"The lady in white legend is basically what you just described. They're a type of vengeful spirit, usually their husband was unfaithful in life, and they killed their children and themselves when they found out. A lot of the time they're obsessed with killing men who are going to be unfaithful; usually she appears as a hitchhiker."

"Right. And bait?"

"Me."

"No."

"Yes. This will be easy. It's the right time of year, and I'm a prime target- young and not single." I could see the uncertainty in her eyes, finally. I was surprised by how quickly they hardened though. She understood in a split second what needed to be done, and was automatically willing to do it- to put me in danger.

"Right then. Don't get hurt ok?"

"I generally try to avoid that."

"We leave in the morning. Where are we headed anyway?" Dean got up and stretched before coming over to the table.

"Minnesota."

"Should be fun."

"Can I-"

"No." It came from both me and Dean. Jess looked downright alarmed.

"I was just going to ask if I could-"

"Still no. I drive. Sammy has driven Baby once."

"Twice."

"I wasn't conscious. It doesn't count. You get to drive her when and only when we are both bleeding out in the backseat." She looked a bit put out, but nodded. I wasn't sure if it was Dean's words or his insistence that we would both at some point be bleeding out in the backseat that upset her, but I wrapped my arms around her, and leaned down.

"Nothing personal, baby. He won't let Dad drive her anymore, and the car was originally his." I whispered it, so Dean wouldn't hear. I lightly kissed her jaw, and she turned to capture my lips.

"Oy, big brother in the room!" I turned to glare at him, mentally counting off all the times I had walked into something I never needed to see him doing.

_There's nothing wrong with it, Sammy!_

"Shove off then."

"I don't want to see it."

"Yes, because I haven't walked into something how many dozens of times before?"

"That's different."

"No it's not."

"Neither of us ever had to see her again."

"If it makes you that uncomfortable then get another room."

"No."

"Then don't bitch about it."

"No."

"One or the other Dean." Jess grabbed a towel, and rolled her eyes at me as she went into the bathroom. I sensed it was an attempt to give us some sort of privacy."

"I don't want to see it, but I can't leave you unprotected."

"I'm a big boy now Dean. I don't need you around for everything."

"It's my job, Sammy!"

"I don't need protecting right now! Jess does! So worry about her."

"I do. Why do you think I'm in such a hurry to get out of here? We aren't that far from California, and we ain't exactly hiding!"

"Then why don't we leave tonight?"

"Because we've jerked that girl around enough. We hunt monsters, Sam and now I'm teaching my future sister-in-law to do the same!"

"No one said you had to do it. And really, is that what you think?"

"Not the point, and you sure as hell weren't about to do it! You're too busy sulking about it."

"You know what; maybe we do need this hunt. Because I can't stand being cooped up with you."

"Neither can I!" I grabbed my jacket, and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I saw the silhouette of Dean sit down and put his head in his hands. I knew I was being dick, leaving Jess alone to deal with what would be an angry and probably drunk Dean. I couldn't bring myself to care. My brother was consistent; he was at least half of my world. I didn't know what I'd do without him, but he was still my brother. We got under each other's skin. He had no right to gripe about an innocent kiss or my reluctance to train Jess, and he certainly had no business assuming Jess was his future sister-in-law. The twinge in my gut told me I was probably lying to myself there, but I needed to ignore that. I knew he didn't like staying in one place for longer than necessary, but she did need to be able to take care of herself. That took time. I figured Dean would want to do it- he was the better hunter. I assumed wrong, something rare when it came to us. Usually we could predict each other's moves with little more than a glance. I was grateful there was a bar within walking distance. I knew Dean was probably explaining to Jess right now that I had stormed out, and would be back in a few hours, most likely drunk. The best part of our job was the fake ids. Dean had been making mine to say I was 21 since I was seventeen, and I was grateful for it, however begrudging that gratitude may be right now.

I plopped myself down on a barstool, and ordered a shot of whisky. Normally I would build up to it- despite my size I didn't handle my liquor well, and I knew it. Right now though I just wanted to stop thinking. Six shots later I crossed the line into full on drunk, and knew that it was high time for me to stumble back the motel and apologize profusely. I downed one more shot, just because I could, and made my way back to the motel. I clicked the door open. Dean was passed out on his bed, on top of the bedspread. I already knew that not even the dead could wake him. Jess, however, was sitting up in the bed, covers pulled over her lap, immersed in a book. She looked up when I walked in."

"Sam." Her tone was icy. I wasn't surprised.

"Hey."

"Get into bed and go to sleep." I yanked my boots off. I still had the presence of mind to know that I shouldn't mess with her. Before I drifted off into a dreamless sleep my last coherent thought was that Jess needed to learn how Winchesters handled emotional problems they didn't want to talk about if she was going to become one.

I awoke the next morning to the usual symptoms of a hangover, and the sound of Dean being acquainted with the contents of his stomach was doing nothing to quell my own nausea. I almost smiled when I saw the two bottles of blue Gatorade, accompanied by a bottle of aspirin sitting on the bedside table. The note read: 'Here's some pain killers for you idiots. I went to get breakfast. I'll be back soon, and you better have your asses out of bed, or I will be making noise.' Yep. That would be Jess. I heaved myself out of bed, cussing when my knee smacked the corner of the table.

"Good morning, Sammy!" There was the bright chipper attitude that accompanied my hangovers.

"Dude, you're just as hungover as I am. How do you stand that?"

"A. I am nowhere near as hungover as you are. I can actually hold my liquor and B. my pounding head won't stop me from making your life a living hell."

"I really do hate you."

"I know. Oh, and Jess is pissed."

"I figured. How drunk were you."

"Enough. She wasn't happy. I kept trying to steal the remote." He shrugged, and I got the feeling he was leaving something out. It didn't matter. I went to brush the cotton out of my mouth, and a cold shower helped me clear my head. I went back out, and swallowed two of the aspirin along with half the Gatorade. Jess walked in and the smell of bacon, sausage, fried egg, and hash browns reached my nose. My stomach flipped, but I grabbed one of the boxes from her and dug in.

"So is that always how you two handle disagreements?"

"What?"

"God, Dean, swallow first," I mumbled around my own food.

"The whole fight, and one of you storms out, and get absolutely shit faced- that kind of dealing?"

"Welcome to being a Winchester."

"I'm not a Winchester. I'm a Moore, and we actually talk about our problems."

"We talk about our problems, when it gets bad enough."

"You don't think that's a little bit unhealthy?"

"Never said it was healthy. It's just how we did it"

"We did talk. It ended in the storming out."

"You two are hopeless."

"We know." We said it at the same time, and the awkwardness faded, at least for the moment. I knew there were plenty more fights like last night's to come, and maybe we would handle them in a better fashion with Jess around to referee. We had always done things a certain way, feeding off each other's anger. Maybe having her around would help take the edge off of constantly being around each other. We tossed things in the duffel bags, and loaded up the Impala.

"Ready for your first cross-country trip, Winchester style?"

"Sure?"

"It means a day and a half in a car- no stops except for gas and food."

"Less ready now."

"You get used to it." The travelling was one of my favorite parts of the job. We had seen quite a lot in the time we had spent in the Impala. The trip made me happy- it was about 1200 miles, and we had plenty of time to make it there before the 23rd. It was the 18th now, and I knew with how Dean drove we'd be there no later than the 21st, and that was if we stopped at a motel every night. I figured we would, with how determined Dean seemed to be to ease Jess into the life. Ultimately though I was surprised by just how easily the trip went. There was bickering of course, but most of was good-natured. I found myself appreciating the seedy motels more, now that Jess was there to make faces, and make me take the side of the bed with the questionable stains. Even Dean seemed to be in a better mood than usual, laughing at little things, and not pushing the car to its limits when we drove down unpatrolled country roads when it was late. We threw information at Jess, everything from run of the mill spirits to ghouls and wendigos- everything we encountered on a semi-regular basis. She took it all in, occasionally asking for more information, or details. I was surprised by the sheer amount of knowledge we did have. I had never thought about it before, but now that it was all out there it was amazing.

Dean showed Jess how to change one of the belts on the car when it broke somewhere in South Dakota. I had never had much interest in learning the car, but I could appreciate the happiness of Jess' features. I was certainly grateful that they were getting along so well. I had worried, at least about that, for no reason. We went over how to fill shells with salt, and the best way to make a flamethrower while she taught us the intricacies of microwave cooking, a skill I didn't know she had. It was a smooth trip, that made me happy, and when we arrived in Minnesota on the 21st as planned we were all ready for the hunt. I was excited to teach Jess about what I called phase two- gathering information.

While Dean went to police station to see if they were preparing for the annual disappearance, or to see if they had even noticed the pattern I took Jess to the last victim's house to show her how to impersonate an FBI agent properly. I smiled at her sensible heels, pencil skirt, and crisp blouse- she certainly looked the part.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I've been doing this for years. No one ever questions it."

"What if-"

"As long as you act like you're doing nothing wrong people generally assume that you're doing nothing wrong. We take advantage of that." She fumbled with the fake badge, practicing with it.

"I can do this."

"You can." The interview was, as I expected unproductive, so we moved to the next item on our list- the only living relative to our lady in white. Not much went on there, finding out what we already knew. She had been buried, of course, in the local cemetery. While we were in our nonchalant rental car I reached absently for Jess' hand across the dash, and looked at her when she pulled away. I looked at her questioningly.

"If anyone sees our cover is blown."

"Thing about hunting is that our cover is always blown."

"Jess, sooner or later, our cover is always blown. It comes with the territory." She hesitantly took my hand, though I sensed she wasn't as comfortable with it as she would normally be.

"I didn't realize this would be so stressful."

"You get used to it. It's not the easiest job by any stretch of the imagination. Just wait until we get around to actually ganking the thing."

"I still don't like using the idea of using you as bait."

"It'll be ok. You'll be there, Dean will be there. It is impossible for anything to go wrong." It was partially a lie- something could always go wrong. It was the job- if it could go wrong it did. I saw no reason to force her into learning that lesson though, at least until she needed to. In all fairness that was tomorrow night, but still another twenty-four hours of innocence wasn't going to kill her.

_Everyone loses their innocence sooner or later, Sammy._

Those precious twenty-four hours passed easily. I was happy. We spent that evening watching crappy pay-per-view movies in the hotel room, a beer beside Dean and a giant bowl of popcorn in his lap and Jess curled up against my side, arm splayed out over my waist. We spent our morning teaching Jess how to field strip her weapon, and went for an early dinner at some local restaurant. We laughed through it, and it genuinely felt like we were just normal twenty-somethings doing normal things- that we didn't have a job that threatened our lives on a regular basis. Eventually though dusk on the 23rd did come, and we did have to go do our jobs.

Our bags were packed, guns cleaned, gas cans filled- we were ready. We were all hoping that she would choose to target another car tonight, but we had to travel down the road she haunted to get to the graveyard. Of course. It could never be simple. We hauled the gear out to the Impala, each of us with our shotguns in our laps, and took our usual seats. The engine roared to life and we were off. I looked back to Jess and smiled at her. She grinned back, and I knew she was ready for this, even if worry had settled in the pit of my stomach. As we turned down the road our lady in white was known to haunt Dean's grip on the steering wheel got tighter. This was always the worst part- Jess had compared it to watching a horror movie a few days ago. We knew something was going to happen, we just didn't know the exact moment it was going to.

I wasn't surprised when Dean slammed on the brakes. I rolled down my window, and was startled when she materialized in the backseat.

"I can sense things you know- the things the pair of you have done." Dean shifted, grabbing the shotgun that leaned between us.

"I'm afraid you'd be wrong. Nothing happened."

"Really, Jessica? Then why haven't you told him?"

"Need to know basis. He doesn't need to know." My mind was reeling- who didn't need to know what? I was confused, and lifted the gun into my lap, getting ready to fire when things got nasty. The car began moving again. I didn't know why it was going after Jess; they almost exclusively went after men. Men who had been unfaithful or the intent to be so to their significant others, I reminded myself. I ignored that fact, as I braced myself to dissipate the thing.

"Honesty is the only way a relationship can survive, dearie," she turned to face Dean, wedging herself into the tight middle seat, "and you, your own brother."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Well, that's no way to talk to a lady." She reached out, and ran a long nail down the side of Dean's face leaving a long bloody mark I knew I'd be stitching up later.

"Dean, get down." Jess fired, chipping the windshield as the salt flew through thin air. Dean began driving faster, pushing the upper bounds of acceptable speed and growling under his breath about his Baby. I knew she would reappear, and I was readying myself for that while still trying to make sense of the spirit's words. When they made the effort to talk- something we usually only encountered with lady in white spirits- they usually didn't waste energy lying, and I was confused. I knew what she was implying but I couldn't wrap my head around it. I decided I would worry about it later. Right now we had a job to do.

"Could you drive any slower Dean?"

"You want us to get pulled over right now? There's cops everywhere on this freakin' road."

"Language, dear." I nearly jumped out of my skin, and Jess let out a little shriek. The woman in white was back, sitting next to Jess. She had her pinned against the back seat. Well shooting it wasn't an option. It was time to see if Jess really could do this job.

"Get off."

"Not until you've learned your lesson. There's nothing more valuable than learning faith." I grimaced at the sound of ripping flesh and turned around, but Jess had the thing around the shoulders. She was gaining the upper hand. Dean made a hard left onto the road leading into the cemetery and it allowed Jess to shove the thing off. I quickly shot it, hoping it would stay gone until we got to the grave, at least.

Dean pulled into the graveyard, driving carefully around the gravestones until we found the right row. We fell out of the car, and moved to the trunk gathering the necessary supplies. I cringed at the blood that I saw dripping down Jess' arms. I knew it would be awhile, if ever, before I got used to the site. Jess stood at the edge of the grave, gripping her shotgun, and preparing to fire at the slightest sign of movement. Dean and I got a start digging the hole. I was bracing myself for the inevitable impact of flesh on stone, and was surprised when it never came. I had been lulled into a false sense of security by our weeks of inactivity. Just as we scraped the top of the coffin I heard Dean hit the side of the grave, and a shot being fired, uncomfortably close to my head. I broke the locks as quickly as I could, and glanced at Dean's unconscious form.

"Jess, help me haul him out." I carefully brought him mostly upright, and lifted him up enough so that Jess could grab him under the arms and pull him out. She dragged him a reasonable distance away and I salted the body, before dousing in gasoline and lighting it. We grabbed Dean, and slinging one of his arms over each of our shoulders managed to drag him to the Impala. I fished the keys out of his pocket before placing him in the backseat. Jess got in, and I started the car.

The drive to the motel was silent, save for when Dean regained consciousness, wondering where he was and who was driving, before promptly vomiting out the window. I had turned around and simply given him a bitchface, and he sunk down in his seat, looking sullen. I was thinking about other things besides my concussed brother. I was still trying to puzzle out what on earth the lady in white was talking about. I had to assume she was talking to Dean and Jess separately, despite what she said, because there was no way that they would do that. It still made me worry about Jess, but those things sensed all kind of infidelities. I was sure it happened in the distant past. I pulled into the motel, and tossed the room key at Jess while I got an arm around Dean and helped him inside. I plopped him on a chair, and I knew by his sloppy grin that he wasn't going anywhere.

_I like kissing, Sammy._

I carefully helped Jess peel off the button up shirt she wore, and cleaned the blood off the wound. A quick glance told me that it wouldn't need stitches. I sterilized it, and covered it with gauze. I placed a soft kiss to her temple before threading a needle, and grabbing the whisky out of the kit.

"So how can you tell if something needs stitched or not?"

"You learn. Usually if it's deep or the edges are ragged we stitch it up. With this one, it's right on the bone, see?" She leaned forward looking at Dean's face. I handed her the rag I had soaked with whisky. She carefully wiped the dried blood off, and Dean hissed before tilting his head. He gently kissed her, and I backed up startled, nearly knocking over the bottle and the entire kit with it.

"What the hell?" Ok, at least Jess was properly pissed. That was good. Dean looked perplexed, but given his concussion that wasn't entirely surprising.

"I liked it last time though." Ok, now I was confused, and angry. There had been a last time. At least I hadn't had to ask if there was. When Dean had head injuries he lost his filter entirely. Most of the time it was just funny, but then there were days like today when it just threw you for a loop.

"Wow, last time?"

"Sam, Sam he was drunk. It was just a kiss." The night I had stormed out. He had kissed her. That was what the spirit meant by your own brother. I was reeling. I had to suppress the urge to punch my brother.

"Yeah, Sammy. Just a kiss."

"Yeah, right. It's just-"

"Let's get him stitched up, and then we can-"She was interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone. I wondered who was calling- it was two in the morning. I reached over, snagging the phone out of Dean's jacket pocket. The caller ID read John.

"Hello?"

"Sammy?"

"Dad?" I had my guard up instantly, and Dean snapped out of his reverie.

"Yes. Is Dean there?"

"Yeah, he's just a little out of it."

"Well, have him call him back when he's awake." He hung up, and I felt the pit in my stomach sink even deeper. If he needed Dean for something I knew I wouldn't be able to hide anymore. Silently I finished stitching up Dean, before helping to his bed. I showered quickly and waited for Jess to get out, before crawling under the covers. I felt her come up behind me, and rest a hand on my shoulder.

"Sam."

"Tomorrow, Jess. I have to be up in a few hours to make sure Dean's not dead. I just need a few hours of sleep before we talk." I kept my back to her, and I felt her press a kiss to my shoulder blade before turning around. I drifted into darkness, preparing for storm that faced me when I woke up.

**A/N: So I know it's been a while, but hopefully the long chapter makes up for it! I apologize for any mistakes- I have the flu so my proofreading skills may not be up to par. I hope you enjoyed it! R/R.**


	15. Deal With It, Sammy

I groaned when I woke up four hours later. I shook Dean awake, not bothering to be gentle. There was no point in hiding how pissed I was, and I knew it. Once I determined that save for the massive headache he would have for the day, which I was sure he deserved, that he would be just fine I left. Part of me desperately didn't want to leave him alone with Jess, not right now, maybe never again, but we needed supplies and breakfast. I considered taking the Impala, but decided that it was entirely likely punches would be thrown when I got back. There was no reason to add fuel to the fire.

I walked the four blocks to the nearest quick mart. I grinned when I saw the liquor store next door, glad that I wouldn't have to hunt for it at least. I refilled the gas canisters I had hauled with me, and restocked oil for the car and grabbed some breakfast burritos and coffee for us to eat on the road. I went to the liquor store, taking my time, browsing the selection. Part of me thought to what could have been the future, the apple pie life with Jess. I wouldn't be buying cheap whisky to clean wounds and even cheaper beer to keep the cooler stocked, and I would forget the typical layout of a small town liquor store because I wouldn't be in one every week. It would be once a month, wine for our weekly date night- the good stuff, not twelve dollar bottles of grape juice and nice scotch to drink with friends. It would be casual, and light, not just a way to dull the pain or the emotion. I could imagine the soft leather chair, and the fireplace. I knew I was projecting, I knew that I was taking stuff from the movies, that real life was never like that. I jerked myself out of my reverie, and went back to determining what was the cheapest whisky on the shelf. I got two bottles knowing we would need it once I also mentioned that Dad had called last night.

I just assumed Dean didn't remember that. I grimaced, realizing for the first time just how much he hated me for leaving. I knew that Dean would want to go to him, assuming he needed help. I couldn't think of another reason why he would call. Dean was twenty-three; he certainly didn't need to be checking in with Dad every other day anymore. If we went, all three of us there was going to be a lot of explaining- why we had brought Jess into the fold, why I was back in the fold. I didn't want to deal with those questions. I didn't even want to be in the same room with him, and from last night I gathered that the feeling was mutual. I didn't want this life- it was the life I was stuck with. I blamed for dad for it and I knew it. He could've just accepted that it was a house fire, that seeing mom on the ceiling had just been stress- we could've grown up normal. He had never been able to let sleeping dogs lie, I knew that, but it had been his one opportunity. I was a baby, hell Dean had been a baby, practically. I still wanted out, but it seemed like everyone I loved was drawn to this life.

Eventually I decided on our week's supply of alcohol. I didn't want to go back to the motel. I knew once I got back that we would have to actually talk. There was no way to avoid it- that mistrust that had been planted (I didn't know whether to blame the woman in white or the guilty parties themselves for planting that mistrust) could get one of us killed if we let it stand as things were. It would get ugly. I knew that already; I had since I woke up. I had every right to be angry, but I couldn't pinpoint why I was so angry. I didn't know if it was because Dean had kissed her, that he didn't tell me, that he did it again, in front of me no less, that Jess didn't tell me and was trying to minimize what had happened, or maybe it was just all of it. I lugged my spoils into a vaguely workable position and began the trek back to the motel. I couldn't find it in myself to gripe about the weight of everything, and I walked slowly, extending the time until I got back to the motel. I desperately didn't want to face what was waiting for me. Eventually though, I did get back to the place, and kicked at the door with my boot, hoping they would take it for knocking and open the door.

"Dean, open the damn door." I yelled after a few moments of pounding. The door cracked open, and a blue eye peered out.

_Keep your gun trained on the door, Sammy_

"He's in the shower, you ass." She shut the door enough to pull the chain free, and the door swung open to allow me entry.

"Hostile much?"

"Are you telling me we aren't about to fight?"

"I was going to wait for Dean to get here, so we can get it all out at the same time." My voice dripped with sarcasm so heavily I almost cringed. It hurt, knowing that this was what we had been reduced to- fighting in motel rooms, when this time last month we had been curled up in bed, taking full advantage of the fact that Brady was gone for the weekend (doing demony things I imagined now), and actually talking about our lives.

"Fair enough then." She went and sat in the middle of the bed, all cross limbed and angry stares. In the past I would have found it adorable- it was substantially less so now that I had seen firsthand just how lethal she could be. I pulled out the chair at the typically rickety motel table, and sat down.

"How's the arm?"

"Oh we are talking then?"

"Yeah. It's not like we can avoid each other, right?"

"Right. And fine. Dean helped me change the gauze while you were gone." I let out an irritated hiss at that.

"Really Sam?"

"What, am I not allowed to be irritated that my brother, who obviously has a thing for you, touched you?"

"I don't belong to you, Sam. I can allow whoever I want to touch me. He was drunk. It meant nothing."

"Why do you keep trying to minimize this?"

"Because it's minimal!" The bathroom door cracked open, and Dean emerged, towel wrapped around his waist.

"Getting this party started without me?" I glared in his general direction, beyond yelling. I knew the look would communicate even more than words would anyway.

"Sam seems to think that the whole kiss thing will cause problems."

"Ah, right. Sorry about that."

"Sorry? Sorry? You do realize that could've gotten us all killed, right? That me not knowing would be prime fodder for the thing, that I would be distracted by trying to figure out what she was talking about, since _I _was supposed to be bait?"

"I assumed you would be a better hunter than to let a ghost's words distract you, Sammy."

"Well, when it's implying that the woman you love and your brother had sex it gets a little distracting." Dean had grabbed his clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom. I assumed that even he realized that this would be made worse by the fact that he was standing around half naked.

"Really, Sam, you think I would do that? After everything that's happened the past few weeks, I would make my life that much more complicated."

"What was I supposed to think?"

"Nothing. You're supposed to trust me."

"Trust gets you killed in this job." I glared at the bathroom door. I honestly hadn't expected Dean to be that blunt about it. It was true, I knew that, but it was something that almost always went unspoken. Actually, it was something that did go unspoken. Jess looked to me, then back at Dean.

"Oh." Suddenly Jess was grabbing her bag, and heading out the door.

"Jess-"I moved to follow her, but Dean put a hand on my chest to stop me.

"She'll come back. Let her walk it off, man." I spun around to look at him, and nearly punched him when I realized it.

"You did that on purpose."

"Yep." I felt my fist impact his face before I even realized I had made the decision to actually do it. As I pulled back my fist for another hit, he grabbed my arm, and forced me against the wall.

"What the hell, Dean?"

"We need to talk to about Dad."

"You remember that?"

"I know he called."

"You can go. Jess and I will rent a car; get out of your way."

"Sammy, you're back in the game now. Come with me."

"We've been through this. I'm not going to go see him, if I don't have to."

_Don't ever leave me, Sammy._

"What if he needs us both?"

"You didn't hear him last night Dean. He doesn't want me there."

"I do." I looked at him, and shrugged.

"If he really does need you, I'll come. I won't get out of the car, but I'll come." I turned to walk away. I needed a shower, and I needed to think about the problems that Jess was going to present. I guessed that the reality of the life was finally sinking in, that she was headed towards the break I knew was coming.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I would never actually- not intentionally, you know."

"Yeah. I mean, we've been down that road before. It's just you didn't tell me, she didn't tell me-"

"No chick flick moments. Just don't be too hard on her, man. I'm the one who instigated it."

"Yeah. Right." I turned, going to shower. I figured Dean was going to call Dad while I was out of the room. As glad as I was that things were ok with Dean (I knew they would be, they always were) I still had Jess to get through. An angry, hurt Jess. I knew that I hadn't had the best reaction to it; I knew the stressful situation wasn't an excuse, but I found myself needing to make it up to her. I didn't know why, not when it wasn't my fault, not entirely, at least. I finished my shower, and dressed, emerging in the main room, where Dean sat at the table, nursing a beer.

"Jess still not back?" He held up a finger, when I didn't notice the phone held to his year.

"I didn't think they existed." He was quiet for a few moments while whoever was on the other end, presumably Dad, spoke. "We'll be there in less than thirty- six hours." Another pause.

"Yeah, and hey Dad, Sammy will be with me." I could practically hear Dad's words, as Dean's face contorted into anger.

"I don't care what you think. He's back in the game, and he's with me. He's coming." Dean lapsed into silence for nearly a full minute.

"There are reasons for it. You'll find out. We'll see you then." He hung up.

"What was that about?"

"He's pissed you're coming."

"I knew that. I meant with the whole I didn't think they existed bit."

"Vampires." I looked at, him utterly confused. Vampires didn't exist- they were like Santa, a myth.

"Vampires?" I had to make sure I had heard him right, because that was a bit too much to process.

"Yep. I know, right?" He took a swig of his beer as I wondered if it was silver or a stake that got them dead.

"Pass me a beer." He threw a beer at me, and I caught it easily, twisting the cap off.

"We're headed out as soon as Jess gets back."

"Do you think you could, you know, give us a few? Go get lunch or something? Otherwise it's going to be," I paused, searching for the right words to use, "tense."

"Right. Yeah." He shifted awkwardly. We sat back, talking about the implications of vampires, yet another addition to our catalogue of creatures that really, really shouldn't exist. Eventually we settled into a watching a Star Trek marathon, waiting for Jess to return. About two hours after she left, the door swung open; I was honestly surprised when she walked in confidently, not swaying like she did when she was drunk. I was even more surprised when she walked right up to me and slapped me.

"Sam Winchester, how dare you assume I would cheat you?" Dean's eyes went wide, and he quickly shuffled to get his jacket on.

"I'm just going to go grab some lunch." In another situation I would have laughed at his desperation to get out the room, but laughing in the face of an angry Jess had always been a bad idea. I knew that it was even more so now that she knew how to kill me. The door slammed shut, and I worked out what to say.

"What was I supposed to think? A lady in white was all over you-"

"You trust a monster more than me?"

"They're about the most reliable monster there is. Jess please-"

"No, Sam. Trust may get you killed, but if I'm in this, then you will trust me, no matter what some monster says!"

"It's not always that simple!" I knew the protest was weak, but I had to try it.

"How so?"

"If you're possessed, if one of us is possessed, and is saying things about the other-"

"That would be different."

"I love you, Jess. I panicked, and that wasn't right. I know better- than to jump to conclusions, especially when the idea is planted by a ghost, but this isn't all on me. You kissed my brother, or my brother kissed you I guess, and you didn't think to mention it? How am I supposed to trust you after that?"

"By, believing that is was your brother who kissed me- that I didn't do anything! I couldn't, Sam, please." She was almost in tears, and it was breaking my heart. Part of me wanted to reach out, take her into my arms; the rest of me knew we had to finish this conversation, no matter how hard it got, because if we didn't there would be the kind of distrust between us that could get us killed.

"I believe you Jess. It's just, why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid you would leave." I froze, not expecting that. I thought quickly, wondering what would make her think that I would, that I could leave her, especially now, after I had drug her into this life, introduced her to this world. I gave into the urge to reach out and touch her, taking her hand in mine.

"I couldn't leave you, babe, even if I wanted to. Not now, not ever." She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around my neck. I knew that the issue wasn't entirely resolved, but this was as good as it was going to get right now. I held her for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of just having her close, for the first time in what felt like weeks. Eventually, though, I knew Dean would be back, and that we would have to leave.

"Jess, how do you feel about meeting my dad?"

"I thought you didn't talk."

"Apparently, we're about to start. He needs us, or at least Dean. We're leaving as soon as he gets back."

"I guess I'm meeting him then." She smiled at me, and placed a gentle kiss on my lips.

**A/N: So, I'm not overjoyed with this chapter, but it does the job it needs to do. I'm sorry if it sucks. John/ Sam reunion next chapter though!**


	16. We're Home, Sammy

I wasn't going to say things weren't tense- they were, and the quiet on the way to Bobby's- Sioux Falls, South Dakota- was the best indicator of that. I was pleased we were headed to Bobby's at least, and not just meeting Dad at some random motel in the middle of nowhere. The first few minutes of the drive of course were occupied with explaining to Jess who, exactly Bobby was.

"He's like an uncle. We spent a bunch of summers with him we were kids." She nodded.

"Spending time with him, well it was nice to be a kid for once. He raised us, just as much Dad did," Dean added. After that though, save for necessary communication it was quiet, and we were left to our own thoughts. They had kissed, and what it may or may not have meant didn't change the fact that it had happened- that they had the feel of each other, that the attraction was there. I held Jess tight as we drove, allowing my fingers to skin under the hem of her t-shirt, claiming her, as she hummed along to Dean's mullet rock. I shot a glare at my brother, every time he looked in the rear view mirror. He was getting off way too easy, and I knew he knew it. The end result of the journey wasn't doing much to take the edge off the atmosphere in the car.

Seven hours later, only stopping for longer than a few minutes once, so Dean could shut his eyes for an hour or so. Jess had suggested letting one of us drive, something she did every so often. I suspected she was trying to plant the idea in his mind, and I had to admit we'd cover a lot more ground if he would relinquish control over to one of us. He, of course, refused to allow it- maintain his firm stance that no one touches his baby so long as he remains conscious.

I was dreading the reunion with Dad. I didn't want to see him and was only along for the ride out of loyalty to Dean. He sure as hell didn't want to see me. I was doing my utmost to not think about what his reaction towards Jess was going to be. Eventually, with a minimal amount of fuss and no serious injury we pulled into the parking area outside Bobby's house. He came out; now doubt hearing the familiar roar of the Impala. Dean turned off the car, and we got out, stretching.

"Sam! Dean!"

"Bobby!" We went over to the porch, warm handshakes and greetings were exchanged. Eventually though his eyes did fall to Jess.

"I imagine she ain't just a one night stand for one of you boys."

"Bobby, Jess. Jess, Bobby. I met her at Stanford." They shook hands, and Jess muttered a shy greeting.

"Which is where you should be."

"Not anymore." I gave Bobby a dark look, trying to communicate the inside might be a better place for this conversation.

"Your daddy's in there, sleeping off the past, however many hours it's been since he found out you were with your brother. Good call, by the way, Dean. You need someone watching your back."

"Wasn't my call."

"Right then. So why are you boys dragging her into this life?" He looked between us, calling us on what we had been steadfastly not talking about for the past few weeks. We glanced at each other, and I was surprised when Jess spoke, given she had yet to say anything on this trip besides her soft greeting to Bobby.

"Sam and I were attacked- three weeks ago now, by a demon. A demon that wanted me dead." Her words were enough to break me from my stare down with Dean.

"It was possessing my roommate, and it kept talking like there was some kind of plan. I managed to exorcise it before it didn't any real damage, but well, not before Jess figured out most of what goes on. We couldn't very well stay in Palo Alto. We spent some time in Utah, training Jess. We just took out a lady in white in Minnesota."

"So a random demon just decided to target her?"

"That's how it looks, Bobby. We've tried to come up with something else, but what has the power to control other demons like that?" Dean spoke, and we had spent time, while Jess wasn't in the room discussing what on Earth could decide to come after us like that, if we needed to be watching our backs even more closely than usual.

_Monsters don't work together, Sammy._

"Bigger, scarier demons," Bobby grunted out.

"Right. So what do they want with Jess and Sammy."

"I don't know what demons do with their free time- just how they work."

"Bobby, you don't think-"

"I don't' know what to think about it. We'll get it figured out. In the meantime, we all do our jobs." We followed Bobby inside, trying to be quiet.

"So Bobby, what's this about vampires?"

"I'm gonna let John explain that one." We sat in silence for a while, nursing the beers Bobby retrieved from the fridge. I draped an arm over the back of Jess' chair, as Dean leaned in the doorway.

"So Bobby, Sam said they spent summers here as kids?"

"Yeah. They did. Annoying little buggers."

"What'd they do?" I groaned internally, knowing she was fishing for stories about me as a kid. I didn't talk much about my childhood, in part in an attempt to keep her in the dark about what they did, in part because I didn't particularly like telling stories about myself.

"After Dean turned fourteen he'd be out there working on whatever junker might be salvageable. Sam would spend time in the library, learning every bit of lore he could get his hands on." Jess looked at me and grinned.

"Don't look at me like that. I didn't get a full ride for my math skills." We all laughed, but it quickly died out. I heard boots clacking against the hard floor of the stairs. I took a deep breath and grabbed Jess' hand. She squeezed gently, and I was grateful that she knew what was going through my head, that she was there. Dean snapped up, ever the good soldier. He had been relaxed, almost casual leaning against the doorframe, legs crossed, his shield down as much as it ever was, and then as soon he heard the familiar thunk of Dad's boots his back straightened, he quit leaning on the door. I found myself sitting a little straighter in my chair, out of habit. I also noticed Jess and Bobby share a look. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I knew it had something to do with our instantaneous reaction to just the sound of the boots. Dad emerged into the kitchen.

"Bobby."

"John."

"Dad,"

"Dean. How was the trip?"

"It was fine."

"The lady in white?"

"Torched."

"Your head?"

"Is fine. Just got tossed around a bit, sir." Jess' eyes flickered to the gauze that covered the stiches in Dean's face. I could tell he wasn't drunk, or at least as drunk as he could be, when he turned to face me. Our intertwined hands were resting on the table, and his eyes flickered there last. He took me in, for the first time in nearly a year. I glared back just as hard, the old rage at him, for dragging us into this life, for turning us into what we were, welling up inside me.

_Never talk about Mom, Sammy._

"Your hair is too long, Sam. Get a damn haircut," he barked, as he turned his attention to Jess, "Who's she?" His glare was hard, hard enough that Bobby was giving him a warning look, that Dean looked nervous. Jess didn't back down, and I was proud when her own gaze hardened to meet his.

"I'm Jess."

"We don't work with other hunters."

"I'm not just another hunter."

"Any hunters that aren't my boys are just other hunters." Bobby snorted at that, knowing full well it wasn't true, not anymore. He knew full well it wasn't true; we were having this conversation in his house after all.

"I'm Sam's girlfriend. We met at Stanford."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm a hunter."

"Sam wouldn't date a hunter."

"I wasn't one when he met me. I wasn't one until three weeks ago when I was attacked by a demon that wanted me dead just as surely as they wanted your wife dead." The room went deadly silent. We never talked about Mom, not in front of him anyway. All of my knowledge of her came from whispered stories in darkened motel rooms- he had never talked about her. When I had told Jess the stories of what Dean said my mom was like I had mentioned that Dad never talked about her; I knew she knew what she was doing. Dad's jaw had dropped open- he was completely dumbstruck by her audacity. I couldn't help myself I grinned at her. His eyes hardened, and I was suddenly scared he was going to take a swing at Jess. I prepared to get between that.

"You've got nerve."

"You sound surprised." He glanced at me.

"I shouldn't be. You chose this life- my boys didn't just drag you into it without asking?"

"Yep. Sam took some convincing to let me anywhere near it, even after he told the truth."

"Which I'm guessing you already knew."

"I had my suspicions." I was grateful she didn't mention why she had her suspicions, that she was bold but not reckless.

"You think can handle this life? It's dirty, ugly, and filled with people seeking nothing but revenge, myself included."

"She handled that lady in white better than either Sam or I could have, and that was her first hunt. She's good, and she'll get better."

"I'm already handling the life. Motel rooms, diners, Dean's driving- it's worth it. Saving lives." Dean had made an undignified noise, he would deny later when I teased him about it, when Jess criticized his driving. Dad just looked at her like she was insane, crazier than anything we had ever seen before. Part of me was inclined to actually agree with him.

"Are we done with all the catch-up or should I go take a bubble bath while I wait for you all to finish up?" Bobby's gruff voice was a welcome reprieve in the thick swamp of tension that had arisen.

"Just gotta hit the head, then we'll get to work." Dean stood up and left. Dad went to Bobby's makeshift office to get the books that were sitting there, no doubt describing the lore we were looking at.

"Well, Jess, John likes you. Known the man nearly twenty years and he's never looked at anyone like that." Bobby pointedly turned his back after that, and I put my head near Jess', and breathed her name into her ear.

"I told you I'd be fine," she whispered back.

"That was incredible. God, I love you." Her lips ghosted lightly over mine.

"I love you. Now let's work." I grinned, and slung an arm over the back of her chair as we waited for everyone to come settle in for the discussion that would begin. I was just glad no punches had been thrown.

**A/N: So here's a new chapter, slightly ahead of schedule. Again I apologize for Chapter 15- it really was awful, but it does have a role to play, and it's doing its job. Hopefully this chapter lived up to expectations- let me know!**


	17. Give It Time, Sammy

As everyone wandered back in a more business like atmosphere emerged, making it clear we were colleagues now, not family, that it was time to push away all the emotional crap.

"So vampires? I thought they didn't exist."

"Well they do. I've known for years."

"And you didn't tell us?"

"There was no need to." Dean was irritated, but I was also glad he let it go. The faster we got through this hunt, the sooner we could leave and the happier I would be. I made the mental note that we should stop and see Bobby more often when we were in the area though.

"So how do we kill them- silver or stake?" Jess was on it, she knew her lore impressively well, considering she'd only known these things existed for a few weeks. Generally the common lore was the closest to wrong, but it was question that needed to be asked- I was curious myself.

"Neither. You chop their heads off. They can also be in sunlight, if they need to be, and if they're well protected. Direct exposure gives them the worst sunburn you'll ever see. They prefer to sleep during the day, and hunt at night. Their teeth, the ones the use for killing, are retractable, and they're fast. Super senses, to the point of pain for those recently changed the best we can tell." Dean and I shared a glance, surprised. It was a fair amount of information to take in, and it contradicted everything in popular lore- everything in essence we would have assumed had we accidently crossed paths with one. I would have never thought of it, especially how to kill them, but then again for most things cutting their heads off at least slowed them down.

"So why do they suddenly matter?"

"I've tracked down a coven that might know where the Colt is."

"The Colt as in-?" Dean looked impressed. I had no idea what they were talking about.

"Samuel Colt's gun. It'll kill anything, as long as you use one of the dozen bullets he made to go with it. Once I find the thing that killed your mother, well why mess around with anything else?"

"I thought it was just a legend."

"You and me both Dean, and it took a hell of a lot of digging to find it. It's well hidden, and no one wants to talk about it." I glanced over to Bobby.

"So what, we go hunt these things down, and assume they'll tell us? Most monsters aren't exactly willing to work with hunters?" I had to point out the flaw in the plan that was being formed.

"A bit of judicious convincing will do the trick. Like John said, UV doesn't suit them." I felt Jess stiffen beside me. I knew she was okay with killing things that were hurting people directly, but I knew that she would be less ok with the torture this job sometimes entailed. I absently moved my hand to her back and started rubbing circles, trying to loosen the knot that had formed between her shoulders.

"Right. So where are these things?" I was sharp, focused, part of me wanting to find the thing that killed Mom, the rest of me just wanting the man sitting across from me to be proud of me for once.

"Redwood City, California. About 30 miles from San Francisco."

"Right. So when do we leave?"

"Day after tomorrow. Everyone rest up tonight, and we'll pack up tomorrow. Machetes need sharpened."

"Impala needs tuned up."

"We leave early then?"

"Five AM. It's a twenty-six hour drive." We all glanced at each other, before standing up simultaneously.

"Sam, help me make dinner. Dean, go make up the couch for yourself. John, just, get out of here." Dad skulked out of the room, no doubt glad to be gone.

"Wait, Bobby, why do I get the couch?"

"'Cause I know your daddy won't give up his bed, I ain't making the lady sleep on the couch, and I get the feeling Sam will throw a bitch fit if you sleep with Jess." Dean made vague noises of protest, before sulking off to the linen closet. "Idjit," Bobby muttered, before beginning to pull out ingredients necessary to make Alfredo sauce.

"Bobby, what can I do to help?"

"You can set the table if you want. Best you start learning where things are around here anyway." I half-laughed under my breath, wondering what it was about Jess that made both Dad and Bobby soften. I suspected it was her innocence, her motives. She had no reason, revenge wise to be hunting. She just thought people shouldn't be getting hurt. I was pretty sure she hadn't even thought about the fact that demons were after her- that she was at risk of being one of those people who got hurt. I tried not to worry about it too much. There was nothing I could really do about it. I hoped the demon possessing Brady had simply been bluffing and all of this worry was only for the one demon. Until I knew for sure though I would keep her close. As she leaned up to get the plates out of the cabinet I had directed her to. I leaned around her to grab a knife, touching the small of her back. She smiled at me as she counted out the plates.

"Sam, chop the garlic." I turned around, grabbing the ancient wooden cutting board the cloves of garlic.

"Yes, sir." I chopped the garlic absently, only half paying attention to the task, more entranced with watching her set the table. It was too late by the time I felt the knife slice into my finger.

"Ow, crap."

"Honestly? You know how to handle a knife boy." Bobby was already reaching for the box of band aids he kept in the cabinet, prone to kitchen accidents himself.

"You ok, Sam?"

"Go to the sink. You're bleedin' on the garlic." I had to restrain a pained laugh at their reactions. I made my way to the sink, running water over the cut.

"I'm fine, Jess. Barely a nick." It was true too, the bleeding was already slowing down, but I felt her come up to my side and grab the hand, looking over it herself-just to be sure. She fished out a Band-Aid and wrapped it around my finger.

"Ah, did little Sammy hurt himself?"

"John, stay out of this kitchen!" Jess was glaring at Dad's retreating back. I turned and resumed chopping garlic as Jess sat and watched us cook.

"Jess, never let John near a kitchen if he's sober. If he's been drinking- forget it."

"Right."

"One time, Dean was probably seven or so I get a call asking how to use a fire extinguisher 'cause Daddy had tried to make them dinner." I snorted- the motel kitchenette on fire, with the Dean wielding the fire extinguisher- half his size- was one of my earliest memories.

_Fire is really dangerous, Sammy_

"Dean on the other hand can cook, fairly well. Bobby just won't let him near anything that can light on fire in the house."

"He damn near burnt my kitchen down- twice."

"What's this about me burning down the kitchen?" Dean entered the kitchen, snagging a glass and filling it with the last of the apple juice.

"Apparently you can cook."

"Eh. Just mac'n'cheese and stuff. Someone had to keep Sammy fed."

"Dean help Sam butter the garlic bread." Dean stood up, grabbing a second butter knife, and pulling a few slices of bread over to him.

"I'll be back. Uh, Sam-?"

"Up the stairs, second door on the right."

"Thanks." Jess left. Bobby waited until he heard her footsteps on the stairs to speak, but I knew he was waiting to say something.

"You boys sure you want to head to California with her?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't we?"

"I don't know. Maybe because there's still a demon after her?"

"Pretty sure we lost it."

"You don't lose demons. Just distract 'em awhile. 'Sides the more I think about it more my gut says it has to something to do with the thing that killed your mom."

"Yeah sure thing, Bobby. It's just gonna resurface after twenty years to get at Sam's girlfriend."

"The thing did say there was a plan. That it had orders from higher up."

"You didn't mention that!"

"Was more worried about getting out of Palo Alto alive at the time."

"Right. Well, now that we know that."

"I'm sure we'll be fine. They don't expect us to be in California this soon."

"If they're watching you Sam-"

"We'll be fine. I'm sure we can handle a couple of stunt demons."

"You boys will get yourselves killed one of these days."

"Not as long as I'm around to keep them from doing anything too stupid." None of us had heard Jess come back down and I knew from the way her arms were crossed he had a fair bit of the conversation.

"Hey Jess. We were talking about-"

"I know what you were talking about. And the next time you're going to about it make sure I'm in the room. Bobby, your pot is about to boil over." We looked over to the stove and sure enough the bubbles in the pot of water Bobby was heating for the noodles were just beginning to breach the rim of the pot. We were grateful for the temporary distraction, as he lunged to lower the heat. The air got awkward though as he measured out a few handful of pasta.

"So…" Dean began.

"I will be headed to California. They may have driven me away from Stanford but they won't keep out of an entire state."

_Most hunters don't have a home, Sammy_

"Right. So that's settled." I knew arguing with her was only going to make her more determined to come- I also knew we needed her, not only to have an extra pair of hands on the hunt, but also to keep Dad and me from chipping each other's heads off. I shot Dean a glare when he opened his mouth to object.

"Someone go get John. Food's about ready." I stood up and marched up the stairs, determined to get to at least acknowledge me civilly before we left. I rapped on his bedroom door, and heard the old bed creak.

"Who do you want?"

"Dinner's about ready. Bobby wanted me to come get you."

"I'll be down in a minute."

"Ok." He closed the door and I turned to head back downstairs.

"He gonna be joinin' us?"

"Said he'll be down in a minute."

"Right. Jess will you pop the bread in the oven?"

"Yeah."

"So Bobby, what have you been up too?"

"This and that. Mostly retired- retired as a hunter gets anyway. Mostly taking calls, doing research now. Helped Rufus with a couple of ghouls up North a few weeks ago."

"Rufus?" Jess was genuinely curious. One of her first questions had been how many hunters there were.

"First hunter I ever met. Owe him my life." I knew Jess was burning to ask how he became a hunter. I also knew she wouldn't. Not asking how someone got into the business was easily in the Top Five Rules for Surviving to Fifty- either they offered the information or you assumed they didn't talk about it. Jess turned to check the garlic bread. I was happy she knew better than to trust the ancient stove  
(I strongly suspected it was at least as old as Dean) not to burn the bread to a crisp.

I groaned internally when I heard the heavy thud of Dad's footsteps on the stairs. I was half-hoping he had passed out. Dean grabbed the plates- piling them and carrying them to the counter, as Jess pulled the garlic bread from the oven. The sight made me happy in ways I couldn't quite explain. Bobby drained the pasta and mixed it with the sauce. We all grabbed our plates and piled food on, then proceeded to sit down like we were actually a family.

"So Jess what were you studying before they dragged you off?"

"English. Sam was studying pre-law."

"Right."

"So, Dean what have you been doing?

"Wendigo in Idaho. Then we holed up for a few weeks in Utah after I went to rescue them."

"We didn't need rescued. Just some back up."

"Uh huh. Right. I quote 'I'm pretty freaked out, man.'"

"Because you wouldn't be if you got just in an alley by a demon wearing your roommate's meat suit accompanied by someone who had no idea what was going on."

"Nope. I knew it was bravado, but I let it slide, deciding fighting with Dean just then was not worth it.

"So tomorrow." I knew Dad was about to start handing out tasks.

"Dean will be tuning the Impala."

"You want to learn her, Jess?"

"Sure."

"Sam and I will sharpen the machetes and the get the other weapons ready." I glanced over to Dad, sure I'd misheard him. The two of us, surrounded by lethal weapons was bound to lead to disaster. I looked around the table, pleading for help with my eyes. Bobby shrugged, and Dean and Jess just gave me a look, I was pretty sure said that my life sucked and they weren't going to interfere.

"Right." I tried to sound like I was agreeing, not being factitious but as luck would have it, it didn't come out that way.

"That's an order, boy."

"Always is. Wouldn't know how to ask nice if there was a gun to your head."

"Ain't my job to ask nice."

"Could try treating me like a human."

"When we aren't sure. When we're hunting you follow orders until you learn to stop making stupid calls. When you start caring about your family."

"I care plenty about my family"

"You left."

"To go to college. I missed Dean, hell, I missed you every day. You were the one who said not to bother coming back."

"And you couldn't even manage that could you? Couldn't stay away. Second one little demon shows up you run to your big brother with a little bitch in tow." I started at that, shocked for once. The uproar at the table was instantaneous.

"Dad!"

"John! How much-" I lunged across the table, all coherent thought gone; Dean caught me by the collar as Jess opened her mouth.

"You boys can stop! I can take care of myself. John Winchester- you have whatever fights you want with Sam. I don't care. What happened between you happened long before I came into the picture and I'll let it resolve itself, but you will leave me out of it. I have no qualm with you, but drag my name into a fight between you and either of your sons again and I will shoot you."

"Are you threatening me?" I admired Jess' spunk. I knew Dad could probably beat the crap out of her (not that I'd ever let him), but I appreciated him being put in his place by someone half his size.

"No, John, I'm promising you. Leave me out of whatever god-awful issues you have with your kids. Then again if I were you I would be damn proud of those boys. They never claimed to value family above all else then abandon each other when things get ugly. They've taken care of each other at their own expense." She stormed out, anger rolling off her in waves. I was surprised when she turned on her heel and came back into the kitchen.

"Speaking of self-sacrifice, Dean you ever bring him back to me with that many stitches again and you'll be them in yourself." Dean nodded; figuring the threat that had been directed at him was a long time coming. I was proud of her, and Bobby looked like he was in shock. Dad had wandered back in the direction of the liquor cabinet. The front door had slammed shut. I knew I should go talk to her, but I didn't want to face her anger. Part of me also wanted her to think we were still fighting- that I could defend myself.

"I don't suppose anyone is going to finish dinner?"

"Sorry, Bobby."

"Not you that needs to apologizing Dean. You ain't the one who brought her into the fight. You gonna go check on her?" He was looking at me.

"I've found it's best to let her calm down on her own."

"Right. You boys do the dishes." Bobby left, leaving Dean and I staring at each other confused. I began filling the sink with water, my confusion growing when I heard the front door slam again.

"Leave it, Sam."

"Yeah. It's just weird."

"It's new. We haven't had new in a long time, Sammy. Give them some time, all of them."

"Sure thing." Dean grabbed a towel as I dunked the dishes into the full sink.

"She is an awesome girl though. Seriously. I've never seen anyone stand up to Dad like that, and walk away."

"Yeah, Jess doesn't take crap from anyone. Fall semester there was one professor, absolutely awful person- he was failing half of the class more or less for the sake of doing so. She went into his office hour and when she came out everyone started getting graded fairly."

"She'll be good on the hunt. I know you're nervous about her- the whole forcing information thing doesn't sit well with me either, but we all know there's not a lot of choice."

"Yeah. I'm more worried about killing Dad tomorrow right now."

"Just don't. Seriously we'll be gone as soon as we figure out where the Colt is. I mean we're getting close to find the thing that killed Mom."

"No we're getting closer to finding the thing that can kill the thing that killed Mom."

"It's closer than we've ever been. I mean, it's not too late for normal." Dean's voice and I knew I hit a nerve. I had the tendency to do that when it came to Mom- I had no memories of her. I tried to think about normal. It hadn't even occurred to me since we'd fled Stanford. Part of me had even been glad- I wouldn't be pulled into two directions anymore. I could have Jess, and still hunt. I wondered if Jess thought of normal. I never even considered Dean wanting to stop hunting. It was as much a part of his identity as the car.

"It's always been too late for normal for us. We've never been normal."

"No. We can try."

"Sure thing." I rinsed the plates off handing them to Dean. We fell into a familiar pattern, wash and dry, something we had done dozens of times.

"You're gonna let her drive eventually aren't you?"

"When I'm passed out in the backseat."

"Right. She's trying to wear you down you know?"

"Yep. It's not working. She's not driving Baby."

"You're letting her work on her?"

"It's different. Someone else needs to know how to take care of her, and you've never been interested."

"You are almost creepily attached to that car."

"I know." We finished washing the dishes and Dean called the first shower, claiming he deserved it since he had to sleep on the couch.

_Starting to think I'm getting old, Sammy._

Not long after Dean made his way upstairs I heard the front door open. Bobby came into the living room, where I was- reading a book on Mesopotamian lore, and pulled two glasses from the cabinet behind his desk, filling them with scotch. I heard Jess pad up the stairs.

"Have a drink with me, Sam." I looked at him, surprised. I had been sneaking beers since I was 15 (though Bobby had told me to quit sneaking them two years ago, with a "you think I don't notice those beers missing ya Idjit? You may as well enjoy them in the open.)

"Really?"

"Yeah." The lack of a sarcastic comment made me think this was the kind of conversation we'd need the alcohol for. I went to the chair positioned at the corner of the best and took the proffered drink.

"Just had quite the conversation with jess."

"I imagine."

"Told me everything that's happened."

"Oh, right."

"Surprised you didn't beat your brother to a pulp."

"There were other circumstances. I still haven't completely eliminated the option."

"You hadn't talked to her about hunting. And I'm not talking about the stuff that goes bump in the night is real conversation."

"Nope."

"Which is why I did. We're a damaged bunch, Sam. You know that. She should know what she's headed into- that hunters like your dad are a lot more common that hunters like you and Dean. That's she's taking risks being a pretty young thing, hunting for the greater good"

"I already took that innocence. I wasn't going to tell her that. We've been trying to protect her from the more unsavory bits of hunting." I took a sip of the scotch, trying not to choke.'

"I don't think she needs protecting. She's tougher than you think. You know what she told me when I explained the danger she was in?"

"What?"

"That she had guessed as much, and that she didn't care. Just sayin' don't underestimate her. Don't know if I like you dragging her into this life, but she'll make a damn good hunter, which I'm guessing you already knew."

"It was her choice. I asked, offered to take her home. She said she'd rather stay- save people. And yeah, I'd thought of it before. Telling her truth. I wasn't going to, but I knew she would make a good hunter. She's smart, and how she physical she can get, well, it'd surprise you." I smiled, slipping back into the memory of our first time, for a moment.

"I'm sure I don't want to know what that means."

"Thanks, Bobby, for taking care of her. Making sure she's ok."

"It's what I'm here for. Pre-law, huh?"

"Yeah. Didn't get past pre-reqs, but that was the goal."

"Not surprising, I guess. You always liked taking care of things."

"Yeah. I should probably go see how Jess is doing."

"Might be smart. Good luck. You made the right call Sam, just give it time. John will come around, he always does."

"That's what Dean said too."

"Don't forget to salt that window." I nodded and downed the last of the scotch, deciding I preferred whisky by a long shot, and stomped up the stairs. I knocked at the door of the bedroom, just in case.

"It's me."

"Why are you knocking?" I opened the door. She was lying on the bed on her side, facing away from the door. I toed off my boots, and slid in behind her, wrapping an arm around her, kissing her neck lightly.

"Hey. How're you?"

"Pissed."

"He'll come around. He was drunk. Just, give it time."

"Bobby is awesome."

"Told you."

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to be a hunter?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"More than anything. The thought of having you there at my side, doing this, it makes me happy. I don't have to be torn anymore. It's selfish, but yes, yes, I want it." She rolled over to face me, kissing me, deeply.

"I want it too. Just thought I'd make sure. Does that door lock?"

"Yeah." I stood up to make sure it was.

**A/N: So the hunt was supposed to be in this chapter, but I decided 4k was enough for one chapter. It's filler, but its important filler if that makes sense. On the upside though, we're halfway through this part of the Stanford Days series! Let me know what you think!**


	18. Vampires Are Real, Sammy

We woke the next morning at seven. I smiled, still groggy, reaching for Jess, feeling the soft skin of her hip where my t-shirt had ridden up in the night. Even though I had been waking up next to her every day for weeks now it had yet to lose its charm; I got the feeling it wouldn't for quite a while, if ever. I brushed my lips over her neck to wake her, watching her eyes flutter half open.

"Hey." She grunted at me, not ready to wake up yet. "Need to get up."

"No." She rolled away from me, and I knew it was one of those mornings. I rolled out of bed, pulled on yesterday's jeans, and made a mental note to borrow Bobby's washer if we had time. I padded into the kitchen and was surprised to see only Bobby sitting at the table, thumbing through the newspaper.

"Mornin'"

"Hey," I managed to get out as I filled two cups of coffee. I took them and shuffled back upstairs. I placed my coffee on the bedside table. I took the other cup over to where Jess was sleeping and held the cup at face level, wafting the fumes towards her. She stirred and I knew she was on her way to awake when a smile lit up her face, though her eyes were still closed. She brought half an arm out of the blankets and made grabby hands, arm looking like a t-rex, stubbornly refusing to pull it all the way out. I placed the handle in her hand and made sure she had a hold of it before letting go. Her eyes flickered open as she swallowed the first sip.

"Good coffee."

"There'll be food downstairs." Sometimes teasing her with food beyond the reach of her bed was successful on days she didn't want to get up.

"Coffee."

"Jess." She glared at me through half-lidded eyes, as I bopped her nose.

"No."

"I'll be back in five minutes." She nodded, getting a second hand around the cup. I was going to make sure Dean was conscious when I heard the irritated voices downstairs. I paused, against my better judgment, to listen. Dean apparently, to my shock, (he was less of a morning person than Jess) was up, as his voice was the first to reach my ears.

"You will apologize to her."

"She seemed to do a good enough job standing up for herself. I don't think she's expecting an apology."

"She's not, that much I know. You're apologizing to her because she never should have been brought in to this. John, she's lost her family just as surely as the rest of us have and you won't be making this any harder for her than it already is."

_I'll always take care of it, Sammy_

"From what I gather she's doing it voluntarily."

"She didn't ask to be attacked, let alone just for knowing Sam. She may be hunting voluntarily, but she hasn't gotten her knowledge 'cause she wandered into the local lore section at the wrong time. You'll apologize to her. And for crap's sake try to get along with Sam. He's here because he wants to be, because he never wanted to give up hunting. He just wanted to go to school, to be away from the only person who thinks he can't do the job despite bein' raised in it. I don't care how you do it. Fix it." Dean sounded more authorative, more certain that I had ever heard him, at least while he was within earshot of Dad

"Find. Seeing as you won't let this go." There was a pause.

"John, don't you be thinkin' of drinking my Jack this early." Dad started to response, but I had heard enough. I turned and walked back to the room. Jess was up, standing in front of her bag in my t-shirt. I was feeling physical, to my own surprise, so I slid in quietly wrapping my arms around her waist, ghosting my lips over the marks on her collarbone I had left the night before. She leaned her head back against my shoulder.

We stayed like that for a few minutes. I contemplated what Dean and I had talked about the previous night- the possibility of a normal life, at least as close to normal as we could manage. The possibility of going back to school- not Stanford, of course, but somewhere low profile and actually becoming a lawyer. Of marrying Jess, having a house, a dog, and a couple of kids who looked like her. Dean would live down the street and I'd be able to be Uncle Sam at Sunday dinners. The thought was tantalizing- being able to hold Jess like this in our house, seeing her hold our babies. I wanted a normal life, I had ever since I realized what we did wasn't normal. I pulled myself out of the fantasy and smiled at Jess in the mirror. Normal was nice, but this was real. She was here, I could hold her. We were close to finding the thing that killed Mom; I needed to believe that.

"I'm almost out of shampoo."

"We'll stop someplace soon."

"I figured." I kissed the top of her head.

"I'll have breakfast ready when you get out of the shower."

"Ok." I stomped down the stairs so they'd know I was coming, just in case they were still discussing last night. Dean and Dad were nowhere to be found. Bobby was in the living room, reading the same leather clad volume I had been last night. I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, glad to see the fatty bacon Bobby always brought that popped and cracked in the pan. I dug around for the waffle mix that was still there. Some scrambled eggs and we'd have the perfect breakfast. I sat about cooking, listening to the sharp pop of the bacon and the hiss of the ancient waffle iron. I grinned to myself; memories of dozens of breakfast filled my mind. This exact combination Bobby or Dean cooking (the cheap bacon accounting for one of the times Dean nearly burned down Bobby's kitchen). I poured the eggs into the pan and put a new waffle in the iron. Dean came wandering in, a smile crossing his face when he smelled what I was making.

"Ah yeah, waffles."

"Yep." I laughed, but I shared the sentiment.

"Waffles are the best part of being at Bobby's, man."

"And here I thought you came for the company."

"You're the second best part," Dean reassured him, though I doubted it did much good. I heard Jess on the stairs.

"So will Dad be joining us or is he off in the barn deciding the best way to make my murder look like an accident?"

"I'll go find him. He has something he wants to say to Jess anyway." Dean left, crossing paths with jess as he went outside.

"Morning, Dean," she called over her shoulder.

"Hey." She came into the kitchen and grinned at Bobby.

"How are doing today, Jess?"

"I'm alight. You?"

"I'm alive. Nothing like a long drive to look forward to."

"Right. I'm thrilled."

"Not a fan of the drives I take it?"

"More that I've never dealt with them before. Need to get used to them."

"You will. Give it time."

"You guys going to eat or did I make this many waffles for nothing?" They stood up, grabbing plates and filling them. Dean came back in, Dad slinking in behind him. I assumed he had been trying to avoid apologizing.

"Morning. Grab a plate." I kept my voice low, knowing he had one hell of a headache. I figured I may as well play nice, given the circumstances, and I did like seeing the smile on his face when he saw the waffles.

"Morning." His voice was rough with the hangover. I could hear it now that I was close. As Dean went through, piling the rest of the food onto two plates, one of which I knew was for me, I went behind him putting the grease soaked pans in the sink. I squirted in dish soap and filled the sink. Jess hadn't said anything since Dad came in and I found myself bracing for an explosion.

"Jess." There it was. Dad had spoken.

"Yes?"

"I apologize for my actions last night. I never should have brought you into the fight." Jess swallowed and got a look on her face I had only seen twice before- when we were facing Brady and when she was fighting the woman in white.

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"It won't." Dad was thoroughly chastised, something I had never seen before, and I knew he meant it. I was enjoying this scene perhaps a bit too much.

"Then there's nothing to worry about." Dean cleared his throat, breaking the tension.

"Breakfast is good, Sam."

"Thanks."

"I remember when you boys were little and you'd stay with Bobby. We'd always have this before I left on a hunt."

"That's why I made it. Figured it was a good tradition to revive." I was genuinely trying to make peace. I figured it never hurt to try.

"I thought you said your family didn't do tradition, Sam?"

_Sorry about your plans, Sammy_

"We don't. At least not how you were thinking of them.'

"Tradition doesn't just mean Thanksgiving and Christmas."

"In his world it does."

"Sam- I want to know." I glanced to Dean and Dad desperately. At least how I saw it we didn't' have traditions, at least not how I saw them. I figured she could handle whatever they decided to throw at her; I just wasn't sure if I'd be able to.

"There's this field in Indiana. Three miles down this gravel road. There's a stream and trees and everything. Dad had a job there when Sammy was about two. Pastor Jim was with us and we stayed there while Dad and Caleb went to do the job. I loved it so much that I begged him to let us have lunch there before we left. He caved and ever since whenever we're near there we stop and have a picnic."

"Every year up until the time Dean was nineteen I'd take the boys to a state fair. I don't think we ever went to the same one twice. Dean loved the rides and food."

"The one in Texas had deep fried pie. It was awesome."

"Sam always tried to avoid the midway- the clowns scared him."

"Dad," I whined (and I knew it) flushing bright red. Jess hadn't known about my coulrophobia.

"Take him to the barns though, and he was happy as a clam. 'Cept the year he was five and a sheep bit him."

"If there was ever an animal that deserved to be eaten." Jess laughed.

"I bet you were a cute kid."

"Think I have some pictures 'round here somewhere." Bobby disappeared to the living room. I hadn't realized that those were traditions- they were just things we'd done. I also realized that apparently embarrassing the youngest when he brought a girl home was the only normal thing the Winchesters did. I suppressed a groan when I heard Bobby's triumphant crow. I almost commented, but Jess' grin stopped me from getting too snarky. Bobby returned to the table- everyone had cleared their plates and it was fast approaching 9.30- carrying a thick blue photo album.

"Are we really going to do baby pictures?"

"Yep. Least you ain't naked in any of them." I allowed my head to hit the table, burned in my arms. I felt hot breath in my ear.

"Not that it matters. I know you're nice and proportional now."

"Not helping, Jess." I heard the creak of leather covered paperboard, and the squeak of plastic pages against metal.

"Don't imagine any of you are interested in my wedding pictures."

"Keep flipping, Bobby" I put my head up, figuring I may as well face defeat with a modicum of grace.

"Aww." It was Dean that made the noise and I knew whatever was going on any grace I had left was gone. I glanced at the upside down pictures and almost smiled despite myself. I had no recollection of the photo being taken, but I had heard the story often enough that it felt like a memory. Dean was about five, I was eighteen months old. It was the first time Dad left us with Bobby. I was clinging to Dean's leg like my life depended on it, a Band-Aid decorating my forehead. Dean was grinning at the camera, a tooth already missing. I had hit my head of the coffee table, slicing it open. I had immediately gone to Dean, and started screaming when Dad tried to take me to get the wound cleaned. Dad had left not long after that. I was aware of Dean telling the story beside me.

Bobby kept flipping through the pictures and we'd pause to tell stories- bike rides, shooting, fixing cars, school dances, my first attempts at stiches. The pictures Bobby had of us growing up were an odd mix of the normal and the life of a hunter. As they worked their way through the album I stood up to do dishes, occasionally turning to contribute to one of the stories they were telling. It actually felt like an almost normal breakfast conversation. When I finished the dishes and sat back down it seemed as if it broke the spell and everyone realized the time.

"Ready to go see what's up with Baby?"

"I'm telling you it was just the belt we already fixed."

"I know the sounds she makes. It's not just the belt."

"Thanks for breakfast, Sam." She leaned in for quick kiss, grinning at me. They stood up, grabbing their jackets. Part of me was loudly objecting to them spending the day together in the secluded garage, despite my implication that I was going to let it go. I didn't want them alone together. I kept my mouth shut- the fight wouldn't be worth it. I wouldn't begrudge Jess an activity she enjoyed or time with Dean. We lived out of each other's pockets and as such needed time with each other as much as we needed it apart.. I had to trust them both. I watched them leave, biting my tongue. Bobby shot me a sympathetic glance. Dad stretched and made eye contact. I also didn't want them in the barn because there would be no one to hear my screams.

"Ready Sam?"

"Yeah." I stood up, and followed Dad to the living area, where the melee of weapons was already laid out. I instinctively cringed at the lack of sheen and visible dullness of the machetes. I wondered just how long they had been sitting unused in Bobby's attic. The guns, of course, were in significantly better shape, just needed cleaning as they always did before a hunt. Dad and Dean had always been more partial to bullets and fists- either quick or brutal. It had taken me awhile to get a handle on anything much larger than a pistol and I had preferred to outwit my opponent or else use my size advantage if it came to a fist fight. When it came to weapons I had always preferred a blade. It was partially a bit sadistic- being able to feel the flesh rip beneath my hands; the rest was simply practicality. It would jam or break in use. I appreciated reliability. I settled onto the couch, grabbing one of the machetes and a rag, and began scrubbing the worst of the dirt and grime off before I sharpened it. Now that I was close I suspected some of the grime was in fact in blood no one had ever bothered to clean off. Dad settled into a rhythm next to me, field stripping and cleaning guns. We sat like that for close to an hour without speaking, simply doing our jobs.

"Sam, how have you been?"

"I've been ok. You?"

"Alright. Got pretty torn up in March, spent two days in the hospital. It was just before Dean went to Washington to hunt those wolves. Did he mention those? They were mutated- could control themselves."

"Yeah. I was kinda with him. Figured out what was up with them. One of the wolves tore me up pretty bad, and then he accidently shot me." Apparently I was going with full on honesty today. The relationship was already damaged enough I supposed.

"How is it he always manages to avoid serious injury?" I thought about my response, unsure of the proper one. I thought back to the times Dean had been hurt on a hunt- pretty seriously at that, but there was also the urge to make nice with Dad, even if it meant some unnecessary Dean bashing.

"Luck, skill. Doesn't really matter how- just so long as he does." That should be a happy middle ground.

"Guess so. We're getting close, Sam."

"It's a demon we're after." I knew Dad didn't know that- he had his suspicions I was sure, but he didn't know for sure.

"How do you know?"

"The demon that attacked me and Jess. Said we were part of the plan- that she was supposed to burn on the ceiling like Mom." I swore that for a second there was a moment of sadness and pain so deep I didn't want to consider it before his eyes hardened to the steel I was accustomed to.

"We won't let that happen, Sam."

"No, we won't." I finished sharpening the blade I was working on, and picked up the next. We sat for a few more moments in silence, until I ran a finger, carefully down the edge of the sharpened steel.

"Always with the blades." It was his version of asking why.

"Reliable. Steady." He nodded, seeming to understand. We worked steadily, the silence comfortable now until Bobby stuck his head into the room."

"Good to see you've both survived. Lunch is on the table if one of you want to go grab Dean and Jess." I put down the machete I had been cleaning.

"I'll get them." I stood and made my way out to the garage. I took note of each one of the new clunkers that Bobby had acquired. I knew this yard well, sometimes even better than Bobby. Years of hide and seek and later trying to find a quiet place to read had given me a metal of the scrapyard that was better than then one I had of the continental U.S. As I approached th4e barn I made some noise, just in case. I was suddenly feeling petulant- what less Jess called my little brother mood. I opened the door. Jess was leaning over the car, Dean peering over her shoulder, holding a flashlight.

_You need to be able to fix the car, Sammy_.

I cleared my throat; scaring the crap out of them seemed fun. I was definitely in little brother mode right now and I grinned at my success. Jess squeaked, and Dean jumped whacking his head of the hood of the Impala. He turned and glared at me.

"Hey guys. Lunch is ready."

"You have just said that." Dean was rubbing the back of his head, mostly for dramatic effect I suspected.

"Nope." I popped the p and grinned.

"We'll be right behind you Sam." Jess had grabbed a paper towel and was working on cleaning the large chunks of grease and other Impala fluids off her hands. I laughed internally at the smear of grease over her right eyebrow.

"Ok. Just sandwiches."

"You haven't lived until you've had Bobby's roast beef sandwiches. Did he make potato salad?" Dean looked more excited than a five year old faced with prospect of cookies before dinner. Jess said nothing about the roast beef, knowing she wouldn't be having any.

"No idea. I was just told lunch was ready and that I should come get you guys."

"Right. Bobby is burying Dad right now isn't he?"

"Not unless he's been killed in the five minutes I've been out here."

"Good." I could see the grin on his face- quietly pleased Dad and I were at least not literally at each other's throats. I walked back out of the barn towards the house, swinging open the front door.

"They're on their way," I said as soon as I reached the kitchen I was pleases to see there was in fact potato salad. Dean would be pleased (though I knew it was there mostly because Bobby used as much perishable stuff as he could before a hunt). We sat down and ate. No one really said much of importance, more concerned with returning to their tasks.

"Hey Bobby, can you make some more these for tomorrow?" I smiled at the sound of his gruff laugh.

"Sure thing." We wandered back to our respective jobs, rejoining as a family later to pack up Bobby's car and the Impala. It was an early bedtime followed by an early morning.

Coaxing Jess out of bed at 4.30 was an adventure I didn't care to repeat, and made the decision that it would be a job left to an alarm in the future. I grunted a greeting at the men assembled in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a thermos. Dad and Bobby were pouring over a map, deciding where the nest was. Dad waited until Jess was downstairs our duffel bags in tow before going over the plan.

"We'll get there about ten, tomorrow. We sleep for two hours. Then we head to the nest. They should be asleep. We kill all but one. Get the info we need and get out." We all nodded, and climbed into the cars, Dad and Bobby in one, Dean, Jess and I in the other. I settled in, head on the window, legs splayed. We hit the highway and I was asleep. I stirred occasionally, to Dean and Jess singing Highway to Hell, once when Dean slammed on the brakes to avoid a deer. Three hours later though Dean was shaking me awake.

"Up and at 'em, Sammy. Pit stop."

"Nrrgh." I got out of the car anyway, needing to stretch. I grinned at Jess inside the convenience store where she was ladened with sodas (including my Dr. Pepper) and chips, as well as two chocolate bars and an apple. When I got back outside Dean was leaning against the passenger door, talking to Jess who was holding the keys.

"She likes gentle. Don't hit the brakes unless you have to. Keep both hands on the wheel. If you hear a whirring when your turn right, don't worry, she-"

"I'll be fine, she'll be fine. Relax."

"Wait, what?" I regained my senses enough to talk.

"I'm tired. Figured I'd let her drive." I blinked, stupidly, before climbing into the backseat. I pinched myself, to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't.

"You ok, Dean?"

"Yeah. Sam, really it's fine. She knows Baby."

"Ok, then." I was confused. I knew Jess loved the car already; I just hadn't expected Dean to hand over the keys this quickly. My brain was still foggy though, so I laid back and drifted back off. I woke up for real about ten, blinking slowly. Seeing Dean was still asleep, I settled for smiling at Jess in the rearview mirror when she looked back.

Hours passed. Road trips were inherently boring, and by hour fourteen I was starting to get irritated I wasn't allowed to drive. The occasional pit stop and lunch were the highlight of the day. About seven Bobby pulled into a diner, and we ate there- greasy fried chicken, though the apple pie was to die for. At three Dean nearly fell asleep at the wheel and we had to pull over for twenty minutes while Jess had some coffee. The sun rose while Jess was driving. I snapped a picture of her and Dean in the front seat, watching the sky lighten. It became a favorite of mine. We stopped for a gas station breakfast- cheap coffee and packaged donuts. Two and a half hours later we found a motel in Redwood City. We'd only be there a few hours, planning on turning around and leaving as soon as the vampires were dead, but it didn't hurt. We checked in to one room, and emerged from the cars, stretching and groaning. I heard Bobby's back pop from where I was standing three feet away.

"Gettin' too old for this."

"We all are Bobby." Dad snorted at that. We didn't sleep like Dad had planned on, though we did order a pizza. We organized and armed ourselves. We headed out at one, driving the twenty minutes to the nest. I was having a hard time keeping the grin off my face, knowing if this went well, it would be one step closer to being done with this. I tried to keep the eyes off the first aid kit next to me, hoping that we wouldn't have to use it this time. We stopped about a quarter of a mile away, not wanting to wake them with the engines. We made sure we were prepared, doing a final weapons check. Dad and Bobby had a syringe filled with dead man's blood, something rumored to be poison to them. Two syringes were all we'd been able to scrounge up with three days' notice.

We moved into a formation. Dad took the lead; he'd be the first one in, followed by me. Dean created a point, ready to move either direction, and Jess was behind me, the most protected, still uncertain. It was a big hunt, and only her second. Bobby brought up the rear, aware of what was behind us, though we doubted any of them were awake to attack us. The old shack was nothing much, dilapidated, windows covered. Most people wouldn't look at it twice. We approached it from the side, quietly. We were pressed up against a wall, next to the door. Dad turned back and looked at us, before nodding and giving the signal. I braced myself as he kicked the door open and we stormed in. Jess and Bobby moved to the right which had a single bed, and had the vamp's head off before it ever woke up. The rest were more aware as Dean and I moved to the left, Dad surging ahead.

One of them, a female, lunged at me, prepared, and very aware they were under attack with teeth bared. I brought my machete up and chopped off her head with a grunt. I watched it bounce, and grinned. It was good to be back in the hunt. I was aware of Dean leaving my side, and looked to see where he was going. Dad was surrounded by three. Bobby and Jess had managed to corner their apparent leader. Bobby had the machete to his throat, and was holding him. Jess disappeared into the shadows.

Two more vampires moved in to surround Dean and Dad. I gulped, thinking to the first aid kit, hoping it would be of use. These were going straight for kill shots, which they were barely parrying, standing back to back. They were faster than I had expected. They were holding their own defensively, and I realized I was just standing there. I wasn't sure where Jess had gotten to. I moved forward, readying to help them get through the five that were surrounding them. One of them must have heard me though. It wheeled around and lunged for me. I blocked the nails headed for my throat with the blade. It bared its teeth, and I swung. I caught an arm, which seemed to slow it down. I swung again, making sure to catch its neck.

I looked up. They had managed to separate Dean and Dad. I glanced over at Bobby who looked desperate to save them. Two had Dad pinned against a wall, teeth inches from his throat. Dad kicked out, catching one of them off guard, and chopping its head off. Dean was faring better. There were three on him though. I moved forward, getting behind one and hearing the satisfying thunk of flesh hitting floor. Dean chopped through the other two when they turned to see their friend fall. I turned to face where Dad was at the same time Dean did. The vampire he had yet to kill was bleeding, but teeth were bared less than an inch.

"Dad!" Dean screamed. He moved forward to stop the vampire. I could already see we were too far away to get there in time. He was dead. We were this close to getting his revenge he was going to die. Time slowed down as I watched the vampire move in for the kill. A flash of yellow crossed my vision. That was the wrong color for the situation I realized. Eventually the scene came into focus. Jess' machete was slicing through a neck and the body crumpled. Dad was standing there wide-eyed, breathing hard. He rolled his shoulders back, wiping the blood spatter from his face.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." We crossed the building to where Bobby was standing with the leader, who he had maneuvered into a chair, and tied him down, machete still at his throat.

"What do you want?"

"Answers."

"Don't have any."

"I think you do." Dad took out his syringe of blood, flipping it over lightly.

"You wouldn't."

"Dead man's blood."

"It won't make me talk." Dad stabbed the needle in, savagely. The vampire screamed. Dean and Bobby flinched. I turned to Jess, expecting the same reaction, but she was standing there, stone-faced.

"Yeah, I think it will. The Colt."

"Gun store down the street." The dead man's blood had had an instant effect, the creature's paling, and visibly in pain.

"You know the Colt I'm talking about."

"Doesn't matter." Dad ran his blade down the vampire's face, bringing blood to surface.

"Tell me."

"So you can kill me?"

"So you can die with a clean conscious." The vampire laughed. Bobby uncapped his syringe, stabbing into the neck. Another scream.

"There's more where that came from."

"Daniel Elkins."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean."

"He has the Colt. Now finish me."

"Right. You'll die." Dad and Bobby walked towards the door; Dean and I turned to follow. However Jess was still standing there stock still. I thought she might be in shock at seeing her first torture. She started walking when I looked at her though. She made it halfway across the room before turning on her heel.

"Just leaving him isn't right." She touched the bindings.

"Jess no."

"You would leave this thing to suffer here."

"Jess, he's a monster," Dean explained

"Maybe so, but if you leave him here to die slowly you are too." I stood, shocked at her words, before she raised her machete and chopped his head off.

"Jess."

"If you want to protect humanity you boys might want to learn what it means to be human." I blinked slowly, as she climbed into the back of Dad and Bobby's vehicle.

**A/N: So A) Sorry this took so long to get up. It's getting to the point in the semester where it's crunch time so academics will take precedence the next few weeks. Sorry!**

**B) I apologize for that action scene. I know it kinda sucks, and it was a bitch to write.**

**C) Even if you didn't like it I'd love to hear your opinion**


	19. She's Fine, Sammy

We found ourselves back the motel despite our original intentions. Dad and Jess were in the room we had been in that afternoon, and Bobby was off renting a second room. Jess had ridden in with them and refused to allow us in. She occasionally glared through the window at Dean and I. We were in the Impala, and I was trying to figure out why she was mad at us when Dad and Bobby had done the torturing.

"What did we do?" I finally broke and asked Dean, hoping he had some insight into the female mind I was obviously lacking. I knew whatever it was we had done was obviously enough to not only warrant locking us out, but locking herself in the same room as Dad.

"She didn't expect us to just walk away. Leave him to die like that. From Dad, Bobby, yeah, but not from us. She doesn't know that side of you, Sammy." I let the words sink in, and thought to what she had said. Of course, I hadn't even thought twice about leaving him there to die. I never thought about having mercy on him and I knew Dean hadn't either. How different were we from the monsters we claimed superiority over?

"We're monsters in our own right."

"Sam."

"Are you telling me you thought about putting that vamp out of its misery? That you thought twice about torturing it for information?"

"No, but Sammy, that's our job- to kill monsters."

"It's our job to protect people first. That's what Dad always said right? Saving people, hunting things."

"We needed to do it."

"Not saying we didn't. I'm just saying we didn't need to let him suffer either." Dean thought for a moment.

"We may keep each other alive, but I think she may end up keeping us human."

"That's what I'm scared of. How long are we supposed to be able to survive? Most people don't make it ten years in this job, Dean. We've made it twenty. We were raised in it. You know where Martin is right now? A mental institution."

"We're good at the job. We'll stay alive, maybe even long enough to go into semi-retirement." I refused to let myself entertain that notion. Normalcy wasn't an option; it was just a fantasy. Something to think about as I fell asleep. I wanted it, more than anything. That white picket fence, and a golden retriever chasing kids around the yard. God, I wanted it.

"I should go see if Jess will let us in yet."

"She's pissed. I'd let Bobby handle her. They seem to have bonded."

"Dean-"

"Go. If she punches you though."

"I won't bitch about it, much." I unfolded myself from my position in the passenger seat, and knocked on the door. I wasn't surprised, though was a bit disappointed when Dad opened the door.

"She gonna let me in yet?" He looked over his shoulder, expectantly, waiting for a signal. He turned back towards me, a sympathetic look in his eye.

"Sorry, Sam."

"Tell her we're sorry and that she keeps us human." Dad turned back around; I knew she had heard me.

"She said she knows. Just let her be mad for a while, son. She's not going anywhere."

"I know." I sulked off to the car, noticing Bobby coming back from the office. I looked at him, hopefully. He tossed me the key and I heard the Impala door slam shut behind me. Dean grabbed the key from me, his duffel slung over his shoulder. He dropped mine at my feet.

"Think she'll come around, Bobby?"

"She will. She's just disappointed in you boys."

"I think she should be."

"You did what you were raised to do, Sam. Not saying it's right, but don't chew yourself up too bad."

"I'll get right on that." I slung my bag over my shoulder, and walked over to the room. It was locked already, so I pounded on it, already knowing my fate.

"Dean, really?" He cracked the door, leaving the chain in place.

"You're the one that messed it up, Sam. Get Jess back with us. We need her."

"Right, because you totally didn't do anything to help"

"You're supposed to be the sensitive one, college boy."

"Dean, let me in."

"I will. When you come back with Jess."

"At least give me the keys."

"She's unlocked."

"I hate you."

_It's for your own good, Sammy_

I shuffled to the car, curling up into a too tall ball in the backseat. I knew Bobby was right- that I shouldn't have an existential crisis over killing a monster. Honestly, Jess was adapting well. I knew that and if I was being honest with myself I knew her outburst had nothing to do with hunting, as much as I may wish otherwise. Her motives- protecting people- didn't leave a lot of room for what we had done. I knew she wanted to keep me human, keep Dean human. She was probably the best thing to happen to the Winchester family in ages. What she had done was one of the best moves I'd seen out of a hunter in a really long time, maybe ever. I wondered if everything I was hiding from her made me less human- if the dreams I had mean something since they came true, or at least nearly did, sometimes.

If everyone was always this angry. I really did wonder if this much anger was normal sometimes. Half the time I couldn't even decide what I was angry at. I was furious right now, and I didn't know why. I could've been mad at Jess for making the right call when it hadn't even crossed my mind, at myself for apparently being something less than human, at Dean for locking me out or at Dad and Bobby for justifying her anger. Eventually, lost in my thoughts as I was, I must have dozed off because when I woke up Jess was tapping on the window and it was dark. I blinked, still groggy. Something was off, though I had a hard time pinpointing what. I reached over and opened the door, unthinkingly, and allowed her in.

"Hey. Why are you sleeping in the car?"

"Dean locked me out"

"Yeah. That wasn't his best move." Alarm bells started ringing in my head. There was definitely something wrong.

"You aren't Jess."

"No. You should have heard her scream when I killed Dean though. She's a fighter this one. Taken quite a liking to your big brother too."

"You're lying." I scrambled up trying to get less prone.

"No Sammy. See the last guy- he wasn't so good at his job. Me- well you were a pain in the ass to find but once I did it was all too easy to just slip inside this meat suit."

"Get out of her."

"We both know that won't work. Now here's what going to happen-" I was pinned on my back to the seat, panicking. I knew I should have made sure she had an anti-possession charm.

"Jess- listen to me."

"Now dear, Dean tried the same thing. Couldn't seem to remember the exorcism chant either. I'm not supposed to kill you. Far too valuable for that, but a bit of hurt before you watch me rip your little girlfriend apart won't be too bad."

"Exorcizamus te-"The blow that hit my chest was more than enough to knock the air from me. I needed help and I tried to will the light on in Dad and Bobby's room, but I knew they wouldn't come. I realized in horror they were probably just as dead as Dean and I became aware of the dampness of my cheeks.

"Can't have that. Now I think a nice slice across the stomach like Mommy should keep you nice and still." The demon inside Jess waved its hand and I felt my abdomen slice open. Blood began dripping down my sides, pain searing through me. I screamed and my eyes flew open.

I was still in the Impala- setting sun glaring off the rearview mirror. Sweat plastered my hair to my forehead and I sat up. A dream- it had been a very, very vivid dream. I got the feeling that this dream, like the others had more to it. I opened the door to the Impala and threw up. We needed to get out of here. I didn't know how I knew but I knew if we didn't get out of here that dream would happen. I rolled out, and pounded on Dean's door.

"Dean! Now!" I yelled, not caring who else woke up. I heard the familiar rhythm of his mostly asleep but this sounds like an emergency walk. The door flew open.

"Sammy, what's wrong?"

"There's demons headed our way. We need to head out."

"What? How do you know?"

"A vision, dream, thing." He looked at me if he was about to start exorcising me instead (not that I could blame him. "Dean, don't question it."

"Right. Right. Go get Dad and Bobby."

"Be ready to go in five"

"Yeah." I went to knock on their door, and it swung open (nearly dumping me inside) before I could.

"We heard. We'll take Jess. She's still pissed at ya idjits Think she needs to shoot something."

"Bobby focus."

"We'll meet you at my place- two days."

"Right. Is she-?" Jess appeared in the door- eyes swollen. She'd been crying but I could see the steel behind the red.

"Jess, baby-"

"Don't baby me, Sam. We'll talk. Just not yet. I love you. Be safe."

"I love-" She cut me off with a quick kiss before turning back into the room. A bubble of guilt swelled in my stomach.

"She'll come around."

"I know. We'll see you in a few days."

"Be safe. I'd say trust your instincts but that's what we're doing here."

"Sam to you." I nodded to Dean as he emerged from the room.

"Ew! Dude, someone nearly barfed on my car."

"Sorry, man."

"Don't worry. You missed." We peeled out of the parking lot, determinedly not looking behind us.

"Two days."

"Yeah. I'm thinking we head about four hours south."

"Ok." I sat there quietly. I knew when we checked the next morning that motel wouldn't be standing. I knew it was because of us, because the Winchesters left a trail of destruction wherever we went.

"Sammy-"

"I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. It is what it is. That motel won't be standing tomorrow Dean. We're destroying someone's livelihood just by existing."

"We do that."

"Doesn't make it easier."

"Nothing will."

"I know." We sat in silence for the rest of the drive. I was glad to have some downtime with Dean, without Jess. I hadn't realized it was something I'd missed until we were in the car. I got comfy in the familiar passenger seat.

"Think Jess'll be ok?"

"Eh, Dad and Bobby like her. Think they're gonna take her shooting."

"That'll be interesting."

"Yeah." We had pulled into a motel and checked in. We got showered and I flopped myself on to the bed, flicking on the TV. Dean had pulled a couple of beers from the cooler in the Impala. He cracked them both open and handed me one.

"So Sammy-"

_Rule number one, Sammy- You don't tell Dad._

"Yeah?"

"We're gonna get the Colt. You me and Jess. We're gonna be the ones to track it down."

"Ok. We'll go get Jess and head to Colorado." I could tell Dean needed to do it. It needed to be how he helped.

"Colorado?"

"You remember right? I was probably about seven- Dad had a case with someone up in the mountains. Mentioned an Elkins and how he was so secretive 'bout a damn gun. Figure it's a good a place as any to start."

"What would we do without you?"

"Let's not find out, eh?" I laughed, despite myself. Dean's face got dark for a moment and it looked like he wanted to say something but settled for taking a swig of his beer.

"Right, well."

"Yes?"

"Jess has been with us for what a month? I haven't been sexiled once."

"Sexiled?"

"Don't judge, Sammy. Just making sure my baby brother is getting some." I felt my face heat up.

"Dean."

"Hmm? Well?" Dean had his obnoxious big brother face on. I knew he was trying to rile me up, so I played along.

"Jess was wearing a high necked shirt for more than practicality." I smirked, knowing I had won, that Dean didn't actually want the information. He glared at me.

"I asked," he finally sighed.

"Yep."

"Ugh. Early morning tomorrow. We're taking our time on the way back though." I grinned knowing that meant giant truck stops and roadside attractions. A road trip proper, not a cross country marathon. It was our favorite way to travel.

"Hell yeah." Dean reached over to set the alarm and click off the lamp. I jabbed the power button on the remote.

"Night Sammy."

"Night Dean." I fell asleep easily, knowing Jess was safe (if angry) and that with Dean between me and the door I was as safe as I was gonna get. For once tomorrow didn't matter. I slipped into unconsciousness and a blissfully dreamless sleep. I woke the next morning to Dean's horrendous singing- a nameless song on the staticy radio. I stretched an arm behind me reaching for Jess, before remembering it was just Dean and I.

"Dean, shut up." I chucked the extra pillow in the general direction of his voice.

"You missed." I peeled my eyes open, rubbing away the gunk.

"Good to know."

"Come on. Get moving."

"Yeah, yeah. Turn on the news will you?"

"Sure." I rolled out of bed, and stomped to the bathroom. I heard the news click on.

"Sam, get in here." I already knew from the tone of Dean's voice exactly what I would see. I went out, toothbrush dangling from my mouth anyway. Sure enough, there was a reporter standing in front of the smoldering remains of a motel. Dean clicked up the volume.

"About eleven pm last night the Royal Motel on the outskirts of Redwood City burned to the ground, killing all fifty people inside. Officials are still investigating the cause of the fire, though oddly enough, traces of sulfur-" The TV squeaked off and I went back to the bathroom, rinsing my toothbrush off, willing myself to not throw up. Once I was sure I was okay I went and threw myself onto Dean's bed, ignoring the sting where my head hit the headboard.

"Sammy-"

"Not talking about it, Dean."

"You knew it was going to happen. That they were coming for us. We can't ignore that."

"We can and we will."

"Not forever."

"Let's just get out of here."

"Yeah. No point in sticking around. Do they know where we are?"

"I don't know. It's not like a radio. I can't just turn it on whenever." He threw the last of his stuff into his duffel bag. I got up and put away my own toiletries.

"Let's go. Call Dad from the road." We checked out and settled into the Impala. I clicked through my contacts and dialed Dad.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Sam. How are you boys?"

"We're alright. You guys?"

"We're alive." I could hear the hedge in his voice.

"What happened? Is Jess ok?" Dean looked over at me, eyebrows raised, trying not to let the panic in his eyes show.

"You were right. Its demons. We were at a gas station about two hours ago. They got a jump on us- we, well, honestly we weren't paying attention as much as we should've been. They were after Jess. We got away."

"Is she ok?" I gritted out the question.

"She will be."

"Will be?" My voice cracked on the last word, suddenly desperately concerned. I shot Dean a look and felt the Impala's engine rev underneath me.

"Just a few cuts, Sam, may a concussion. Bobby's patching her up now." I let out a sigh. It wasn't good, but it could be a lot worse. She'd be just fine.

"Are you and Bobby ok?"

"Just a few bruises. I might have cracked a rib when they threw me."

"We'll be at Bobby's soon then."

"We'll be there. Watch yourselves boys."

"You too. Take care of her."

"I will. Nothing will happen to her, Sam."

"I'm trusting you." I heard a voice in background.

"Bye Sam."

"Bye." I flipped my phone shut, and let out a deep sigh.

"What happened?"

_Getting hurt is part of the job, Sammy_

"Demons. Went after Jess. They were attacked."

"Are they ok?"

"Jess got the worst of it. It's not too bad- some stiches, a concussion, but still."

"You won't relax until you see her."

"Yeah."

"Did they exorcise them or?"

"I think they just ran. I didn't really ask."

"Let's get home, Sammy."

"Yeah." We did. Dean, like he always had, sensed my urgency, my need to be in the same room with Jess again. I was surprised we didn't get pulled over for speeding, but we made the 26 hour drive in 25. We stopped so Dean could sleep for two hours. Pulling up the dirt road to Bobby's didn't have the same feel it had had four days previously. It was raw and desperate. Regardless of Dad's reassurances I needed to see her. I knew they heard the Impala roll up to the house.

Sure enough a few moments later Bobby emerged on the porch, supporting a tired looking Jess. She was leaning into him a bit too much for me to be satisfied. She was pale and drained. Dean pulled to a stop, and I was staring fixedly at the porch. I reached for my bag.

"I got it man. Go ahead." I jumped out of the car, not quite running to the porch. I skidded up the steps, and had Jess wrapped in my arms in no time. Bobby moved to the side. She buried her face in my shoulder, laughing.

"You're like an overgrown puppy." I looked down at her, and forced a smile. There were 7 stiches gracing her forehead, just along the hair line. I ran my hand down her back, feeling the ridge of another wound. I glanced to Bobby, who just shrugged.

"You okay?" I tried to keep the edge of desperation out of my voice, but I was fairly certain I didn't do a very good job of it.

"I'm fine Sam. Twenty stiches and a concussion. Little bit of blood loss. I'm tired, but I'll be fine." I squeezed her. "Ow. Not quite that fine."

"Sorry. I was worried."

"Your dad and Bobby patched me right up." I pressed a kiss to her lips, unable to hide my relief at her presence.

"I know. I know. Just needed to see it." She stroked my face.

"I'm fine, Sam. Let's go in." I wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as we made our way back inside.

**A/N: So I finally got myself a beta- the wonderful KillerKueen. Other than that hope you liked it, but either way feel free to review. They're like candy!**


	20. Watch Out For Jess, Sammy

Jess and I got settled on the couch as I pulled the old afghan over her.

"You're cold."

"Fine, Sam. I promise." I kissed her forehead and let her settle in close as I tuned into the conversation Bobby and Dean were having outside.

"What're your plans, once she can travel?"

"Sam thinks the Colt might be in Colorado, so we'll be headed there."

"Of course."

"Listen, Bobby. I know whatever happened back there wasn't good, and I saw her. That isn't a few stitches and a concussion."

"They snuck up on us. There were four of 'em and we weren't exactly prepared. They went straight for her. Threw John and me clear out the way and tore into her. We managed to get them off, but not before-"

"How bad was it, Bobby?"

"Don't you dare breathe a word of this to your brother. Not yet. Those demons- they're determined to see Jess dead. She's lucky to be alive- lost a lot of blood."

"Where's Dad at?" Dean was abrupt, and I realized he wanted to hear the gory details of it less than I did. It seemed like there was always a difference between living the gore and hearing about it after the fact.

"Out in the garage, cleaning the truck. Like I said a lot of blood."

"Right. Just glad you're alive"

"Sam?" Jess' voice snapped my attention back to her.

"Yeah?"

"It's ok. We got out." I let out a breath I hadn't been aware I'd been holding.

"I love you, Jess. So much."

"I love you, too. It's ok, Sam."

"They want you dead."

"And the feeling's mutual. We both know how stubborn I am." She reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my forehead.

"I almost lost you. Can't lose you, baby. I mean it- you're the one that keeps me human."

"You scared me in that shack. I didn't think that side of you even existed. That you had it in you to torture someone and leave them to die."

"That's how I was raised. I don't think of monsters as human, even if that's what they were, at one point."

"I'll teach you then, to see the humanity in the world. To see what I do."

"You're the balance we need. That we've needed for a long time." We sat there in silence for awhile, enjoying the breeze coming in through the open window, the feel of each other breathing. I was aware of Bobby coming back into the house, but for the most part it felt like it was just us. We sat on the couch curled up long enough that I nearly dozed off and Jess' breathing evened out against my chest. Curiosity got the better of me, though, and I broke the spell.

"Jess, how bad is it? Really?" I needed to know. She stirred.

"Let's go upstairs." She used the couch to heave herself up. She tried to stand and her knees wobbled.

"Got you." An arm wrapped around her waist and we moved across the house. She stopped at the stairs and looked up, sighing. We began inching our way up, but she stopped three stairs up.

"Crap, Sam. I'm not gonna make it up."

"Like I said, I got you." I hooked an arm under her shoulders, making my intention clear. She wrapped an arm around my neck and I lifted her easily. I carried her the rest of the way up the stair to the room we had stayed in before. I put her gently on the edge of the bed and kneelt in front of her.

"I'm so, so sorry I scared you," I said, stroking her cheek.

"Its fine, Sam. It'll all be ok." She reached for the hem of her t-shirt and I slid my hands under, helping. It went up and over her head and I sucked in a breath. There were three stitches closing a wound at the base of her neck- where I imagined most of the blood loss had come from. Her stomach was mostly blue and purple, the bruises wrapping around to her back where a long gash decorated the upper half, stitched up nicely. I was sure I recognized Dad's handiwork. The bruising got less severe as my eyes traced upward through the bruises that were on her upper back seemed to be deeper, if not as numerous.

"God. They destroyed you."

"That they didn't. I'm still moving. As long as I'm moving they can't win." I left it there, not wanting to press too much, finally grasping just how tired she must be. My own exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks; all the activity of the past week seemingly catching up to me at once. It was before eight, I knew maybe even before seven but I stretched out beside her and closed my eyes. The next think I knew I was being woken by a pounding on the door.

"Sammy, get up! It's after ten." I groaned, too much sleep making me slow. Dean's voice was grating when he woke me up. I stood, stumbling a little towards the door. I cracked it open.

"I'm up."

"God, Sammy. How long did you sleep?"

"About fourteen hours, I think."

"Well, up and at 'em."

"Where do we even need to be?"

"We're leaving for Colorado."

"Maybe we should stay here for a few days." I lowered my voice, hoping Dean would follow suit. I didn't want to wake Jess just yet.

"We need to get going." I gave him a look, my shoulders tensing.

"He's right Sam. We can't say here forever. If Colorado is where we need to be-" I turned to look at her.

"Jess." She had sat up and was searching for her shirt on the side of the bed. Dean stuck his head in.

"They really did tear into you, didn't they?"

"It's nothing. I'm already feeling a lot better."

"Are you sure?"

"Quit worrying so much, Sam. It's not like we're jumping into another hunt and it's not like we have to be there tomorrow."

"We can road trip it, Sammy!"

_We can't just stop, Sammy_

"Fine, you guys win."

"We'll leave at one." Dean left, closing the door behind him.

"Ugh. I should probably shower." She sounded disgusted, and I figured she probably hadn't had a proper shower since she got hurt. They had probably just washed the blood off of her, and gotten her settled.

"Yeah. I should probably consider the same." She nodded, wrinkling her nose. I choked on a laugh.

"Help me rebandage after?" Her timidness surprised me, as if she thought I would refuse her.

"Yeah, of course." I stretched, deliberately popping my back, as Jess gathered her shower stuff. She went over to me and placed a lingering kiss to my lips.

"I love you."

"I love you. I'll be downstairs."

"Ok." She left the room. I slunked down the stairs as soon as I heard the bathroom door click shut and poured the dregs of the coffee into a mug. I went to the living room, plopping myself onto the couch next to Dean. I nodded at Bobby and Dad who occupied the other chairs in the room.

"Sam, about what happened- how did you know?" Dad was trying to be gentle about it, which I appreciated. I had less interest in talking about the dream with them than I did with Dean. I sunk lower into the couch, hoping the cushion would swallow me, or at least finally give way, providing an adequate distraction.

"Don't want to talk about it." I sounded petulant to my own ears, like a five year old who had broken a lamp.

"If you're psychic, boy-" Less gentle now. Of course.

"He said he didn't want to talk about it. Let's just be glad that what happened did." He paused when he saw their incredulous looks. "Not that the motel burned down. Just that Sammy knew what was coming for us. That we got out when we did." Dean stood up, stomping to the kitchen and indicated I should follow. He rarely stood up to Dad, and when he did it was always in my defense. I stood, shooting a glare at Dad before making my way to the other room. I set down my mug and poured myself a bowl of plain Cheerios, not bothering with milk before I deposited myself in front of Dean, who had been watching me in silence.

"What's up?"

"Listen, man, there's not that much of a rush, really. If we need to stay for a few more days-" he began. I cut off before he could finish.

"I trust Jess' judgment. If she says she's good then she's good. And we have time."

"We do, but I think we'll also be taking the long way. Through Wyoming. Try to shake those damn demons."

"You find out where Elkins lives?"

"Place called Manning. Off 114, some backwoods town he lives in the backwoods of. It's about two hours south of Gunnison."

"Right." It would be a long, boring drive, mostly prairie.

"Sam you sure we don't need to wait? I saw the back of the truck. If I didn't know better I'd say whoever was back there is dead."

"I trust her judgment," I repeated. "We'll take it slow. Keep it to six hours a day, frequent stops. The usual drill."

"That'll make it almost a four day trip." Dean was getting whiny. I knew that when he decided on a goal it was pure torture trying to get him to slow down enough for the rest of us to keep up. He loved road trips, but he hated going slow.

"And if it's that what it takes, it's what it takes. You were all excited to road trip earlier."

"Yeah. Guess it also mean Jess' stitches might be out by the time we go talk to Elkins."

"The ones in her neck won't be."

"Ok?" He looked confused. I realized he hadn't seen her wounds up close.

"It's pretty deep. They'll need the full ten days."

"Right. Is she ok?"

"Yeah. She will be. Just needs some time."

"That's not what I meant, Sam." I ran my fingers through my hair, grimacing as I realized just how desperately I needed a shower, and wiped them on my jeans. I remembered we hadn't stopped anywhere so that Jess could pick up more shampoo.

"I don't know. She's adapting so well, like she was born to do this, but no one is born to do this. Sooner or later- everyone has that moment, when they realize they can't go back, that there is no normal anymore."

"Do we just trust it then, and if the dam breaks-"

"We worry about it then. She'll say something."

"I just, I guess I worry about her. I've never met anyone who actually chose this life." A loud crash, followed by a sharp scream sounded from upstairs.

"Sam!" Her voice rang through the house. I pushed my chair back and flew up the stairs. I was aware of footsteps on the stairs, not far behind me.

I opened the bathroom door without a thought. I let out a breath when I saw Jess sitting in the tub, the shower curtain on top of her. I stuck my head out of the bathroom, knowing everyone else was right behind me. I figured I could preserve a semblance of her dignity. I was confronted in the hall by three of the bravest men I knew looking more terrified than a couple of haunted civilians.

"She's fine. Just fell." They nodded, and moved back downstairs, glad they weren't needed. I slipped back into the bathroom where silent tears were running down Jess' face, tears I suspected she was trying to stop, that she hadn't wanted to fall in the first place. I reach over and turned off the water. I lifted the shower curtain off of her. There was blood sliding down her left leg. Somehow she has managed to slice it open when she fell.

"You ok?" She gave me a look that very clearly answered the question. She was not ok. She was hurt and embarrassed. I walked to the linen closet and grabbed a hand towel.

I gave it to Jess who automatically pressed it to her leg. I got her a towel and after helping her perch on the edge of the tub, dried her off, then carefully pulled back the edges of the gauze that had been keeping her stitches dry. She sucked in a sharp breath as the tape caught her skin. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder before wrapping her in the towel. The blood was slowly sliding down her leg into the tub.

"Hey. Let's get you cleaned up." She turned towards me, carefully and took a huge gulp of air before she was sobbing into my shoulder, arms wrapped tight around me. I rubbed circles into her back, trying to soothe her, mumbling nonsense.

"I'm so sorry, Sam."

"For what?" I was confused, and for a split second thought she was going to change her mind. That she was going to leave.

"For being such a screw-up. I can't fight off a couple of demons that are after your entire family now because they want me dead. I can't even take a damn shower without help." This was something I could fix, or at least press over.

"Jess demons are tough. I barely got one demon out by myself and I've been hunting my whole life. You guys were ambushed, by what four? Totally unprepared? No one blames you. We just want to know what those sons of bitches want. If something attacks one of us, it attacks all of us and you are family." I stopped at that, chewing the inside of my cheek, surprised at the words. Being family, to a Winchester, meant more than she knew, and I realized despite how much Dean joked about it, I would marry her someday, in the future. After all this was over.

"It's just I dragged you into this mess. You were happy and getting to be normal for the first time in your life."

"Hey, if anything I drug you into this. I put you in danger just by knowing you and I knew that. I knew a normal life would never last, not for me. I knew and I brought you in with me?" Her tears had slowed, now just occasionally rolling down a cheek. A few more sobs.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"My leg is really starting to hurt."

"I got you, baby." I peeled the towel away from her leg, glad to see the bleeding had slowed. It was long, and little more than superficial. Nothing a few butterfly bandages couldn't fix. I gathered the basic first aid supplies Bobby kept in the medicine cabinet, for the household injuries like this.

I just barely suppressed a laugh at her yelp when I cleaned the wound. A few moments later and the column of four butterfly bandages were covered in clean white gauze. I set about dressing the rest of her injuries, stroking over skin, trying not aggravating the bruises. Almost without thinking I grabbed her brush and began running it through her knotted hair. When I finished she leaned her head back against my shoulder.

"I love you," I whispered.

"Love you more." She stood, carefully, wrapping the towel more securely around her. I wrapped an arm around her waist knowing she was still weak from the blood loss and was favoring her injured leg. I watched as she dressed, enthralled by her movements.

"Are you sure you're ok to travel?"

"I'm fine. I just need to rest. And I can do that in the car just as easily I can here." I knew it wasn't that simple, but I also knew it was pointless to argue with her.

"Alright." I resigned myself to her stubbornness hoping it wouldn't cause further injury.

"Help me downstairs?" We made our way down; I was carrying her down the stairs again, and I deposited her on the couch, which Dad and Dean had rapidly vacated. Everyone was staring at her, not willing to be the first to vocalize their concern.

"I'm fine, guys. I just slipped." They nodded. The air was heavy for reasons I was unsure of.

"You want something to eat, Jess?"

"Thanks, Bobby. I can get it."

"Just stay there, ya idjit. Rest. That soup work for you?" I found myself wondering where Bobby had even gotten vegetable broth or that matter when Bobby catered to anyone, let alone in his own his own house.

"Yeah. That's fine."

"I'll be right back." His hand brushed over the top of her head in a protective gesture before he disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'm gonna go put the bathroom back together. Shout if you need anything." She looked mildly chagrined at that. In all reality though the mess wasn't that bad.

"I'll be fine." She smiled at me softly.

I made my way upstairs. The bathroom was still steamy, and I picked the towels up off the floor. I tossed the blood soaked one in the trash, knowing there was no salvaging it. Lifting the still dripping shower curtain from the tub I strung on the few rungs that had slid off. I stood on the edge of the tub, perching carefully, and popped the rod back into place. I realized I still needed a shower, and figured Jess would be fine. Dean wanted to leave soon, but he could wait. Enough time had passed that I guessed even the clankety old water heater in the basement had had enough time to heat back up.

The hot water felt good against my skin and the tension of the past few days began to melt away. Everyone was safe, for now. We were gonna get the Colt and Dad was gonna find the thing that killed Mom. We were gonna put a bullet in its skull. Despite everything, the dreams, the demons after us, not having a choice in getting back into the life, things were good. We stood a chance. I knew hope was dangerous, but this felt real. I turned the water off and dressed. After checking to make sure everything was packed I slung the duffel bags over my shoulder and made my way downstairs.

"Ready?" Dean glanced up, just managing to keep his face composed.

"Yeah. Whenever you guys are."

"Jess, you still sure you want to head out?" I needed to check, one last time.

"I told you to quit worrying about me. I'm fine." I nodded. We got the car packed, made the obligatory bathroom visits and soon found ourselves standing on the porch with Dad and Bobby.

"You boys be safe. Expect you back around here soon."

"Yes, Bobby." Handshakes were passed around and a one armed hug went to Jess before he went inside. We turned our attention to Dad and I felt my shoulders square, saw Dean's jaw tighten automatically. Jess was the only one who remained relaxed.

"You boys got this?"

"Yes, sir."

"If Elkins gives you any trouble-"

"Negotiate first, shoot second." I turned to look at Jess, and Dad's eyes flickered to her as well. She really was going to keep us human. I had been ready to say shoot first, and I knew Dean would say the same.

"Keep 'em out of trouble, Jess."

"That I can do. I'm holding you to that shooting lesson next time." Dean and I shared a glance, surprised at the casual camaraderie. Neither of us would have ever dared to talk to Dad like that.

"We'll see you then. Get back in one piece."

"That we will. Stay safe."

"Sure thing." We said our final goodbyes and got settled in the car. Jess sprawled out in the backseat and was asleep before we hit the highway. I turned around once we got moving and grinned. She was adorable when she slept. Eventually though I had to turn around to talk to Dean. I allowed us to sit in silence for nearly an hour though. I didn't feel like talking. We had time.

"So you have a plan?"

"Yeah. We're taking our sweet time getting there."

"I already knew that. I meant with Elkins once we get there."

"Wing it." I heard the rustling of Jess rousing behind me

"That is a brilliant plan. Can't wait to go in with it."

"Has worked before. Will work again."

"Right."

"Anyway- what's your plan at least for tonight, seeing as you've yet to enlighten us?"

"We're stopping in Grand Rapids since we got such a late start. No point in heading all the way to Spearfish."

"What time is it?"

"It's about four."

"It's only another hour."

"Thought you wanted to take it easy."

"Yeah. I also want to get there before Dad dies."

"Keep going. I'm the only reason we're going so slow," Jess cut in, preventing the brewing argument.

"The lady has spoken." We continued in silence for a while. Jess was picking aimlessly at the hem of her t-shirt, and I realized absently I was mirroring her. Dean was bobbing his head in time with whatever music was playing on his internal stereo.

I stared out the window, watching the landscape change. As a child I had been enthralled with how the hills and trees changed as we travelled, amazed that every time we went to a new place it was different than the place before. Every old place was never exactly the same. The signs ticked by at Dean's steady seventy-seven miles per hours. I shifted in my seat, getting tired of being crammed in the car, my knees constantly hitting the dashboard. I couldn't help but smile when I saw a familiar green sign indicating twenty miles to Spearfish. I heard a sigh from the backseat and I turned around to look.

"Another twenty miles," she said by way of explanation.

"It's not that far." Then I paused realizing what it was like to travel hurt. How every bump made your body scream and muscles tightened a lot more quickly, how by the end of the trip you felt every breath and wanted to scream. I remembered my thought of just a second previously, about how uncomfortable I was.

"Sorry," I apologized, quickly.

"It's fine. I'm just ready to get out of the car for a while."

"Jess, if you ever need to stop- speak up. We generally don't stop until one of us says something," Dean added in, for no apparent reason.I tried not to bitchface at the uncharacteristic amount of concern Dean was showing.

"Believe me, I won't hesitate."

"Right. God we're really doing this." I needed to vocalize it- that we were this close to it. That there was a chance this could be easy. Dean didn't say anything, eyes on the road for once. Jess sat back, trying to get comfortable for this last stretch. I suppressed a sigh and slunk down as low as I could in the seat, staring out the window, trying not to feel ignored. I watched the wilderness surrounding the Interstate slowly give way to the town, houses popping up more and more frequently along with the mom and pop stores that so often decorated the fringes of towns this size. For some reason I could smell sweet and sour chicken.

"We should get Chinese tonight."

"Works for me. Let me know if you see a place." Jess had dozed off again, head lolling against the window. I figured waking her wasn't worth it- I had never heard her be vehemently opposed to Chinese.

_You ever going to get sick of this life, Sammy?_

As we got deeper into town I automatically began searching for the strip mall restaurant that every town with more than a few thousand people had. I spotted it and pointed; Dean turned quick, jerking me to the side. I spluttered angrily, something about how he was going to get us killed one of these days. Jess let out an indignant squeak as the movement jerked her awake.

"Sorry. We're getting Chinese for dinner?" Sure, of course, he apologized to her, and shrugged in a way that he knew would get her to forgive him immediately.

"Think they have tofu anything?"

"We're in Spearfish, South Dakota. Don't count on it."

"Right." Dean parked in front of the place and we got out stretching tight muscles. Jess cringed and I could practically feel her bruises pulling against skin. Dean moved toward the door, and we followed. I wrapped an arm around Jess' shoulders and caught the door he hadn't bothered to hold.

Half an hour later we were sitting in a motel room. I was picking at remains of my sweet and sour chicken, while Dean was still wolfing down his beef and broccoli. Jess was glaring at the limp vegetables, half of which were still decorating her plate.

"Eat up," Dean said around a mouthful of rice.

"I'm good."

It was quiet that night. There just wasn't a lot to say, and we all had other things to think about. The next morning wasn't much better. We stopped to get breakfast, and Jess picked up stupid book of half made up anecdotes to read as we inched our way through Wyoming. I settled for staring out the window. The scenery here didn't change much, all prairie and the road ran perfectly straight for miles at a time.

"Hey dude, stop in Casper. I gotta pee."

"Yeah. We need gas anyway." We pulled off the Interstate (which I knew Dean wasn't happy we were travelling on) and into a gas station. I glanced over, spotting the McDonald's.

"Anyone else up for an early lunch." Jess started to agree, before seeing where I was looking and wrinkling her nose.

"Nope." I glanced across the street, spying a Subway. I figured it was worth a shot, knowing she needed to eat to heal.

"What about there?"

"Fine." I told Dean where we were going, and went to get food. The line was surprisingly long for how early it was, but we waited. When we came out of the shop fifteen minutes later I immediately sensed something was wrong. Dean was leaning on the hood of the Impala waiting for us was one reason. The more pressing one seemed to be the people fleeing the building. Dean, as soon as he realized what was going on sprinted towards the building, disappearing inside. I glanced at Jess, and we ran toward the building. I was already pulling the holy water out of my jacket. Horns blared and tires squealed as we ran across the street. I wasn't surprised to see Dean pinned against a shelf when I barged in. Jess was waiting at the Impala, knowing she was in no condition to fight. I had tossed the sandwiches at her though.

"Dean!"

"Sammy!"

"Take Jess and run!" I rolled my eyes, and ignored him, heading in, splashing holy water against the demons as I went. I grabbed Dean, protecting him with one arm, splashing with the other. We got out, barely arms reaching for us, trying to pull us back, break us apart.

"We'll get to you! And your girl, soon!" I resisted the urge to turn around and snap back.I threw Dean into the driver's seat, and climbed into the passenger seat. The Impala roared to life and we jerked out of there. I glanced back to Jess who had gone pale.

"Everyone ok?" I looked at Dean. His cheek was bleeding.

"I'm fine," Jess squeaked out.

"Dean?"

"Those sons of bitches want us dead."

"Dean?"

"I'm fine, Sammy." I dug around in the sandwich bag I was somehow still clutching and fished out a napkin. I carefully wiped the congealing blood off Dean's face, and saw it was just a scratch. I let myself breathe once I realized Dean was, besides that, unharmed.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. They just came at me. It's like their only goal is to find us, and kill us."

"It probably is."

"Sam?"

"Yeah babe?"

"What's happening?"

"We'll figure it out." She was scared. I knew she would never say it aloud, but she was. Dean drove, and he didn't stop. He drove for over twelve hours. We got gas, but no one asked to stop. We are too afraid. Dean's face had hardened into an unreadable mask and Jess was curled up in the back.

We pulled into Grand Junction, Colorado at one am, and checked in the motel. Jess gasped when she tried to get out, and fell back onto the seat. I went and wrapped an arm around her, trying to help her stand. Every time she ended up doubled over in pain, muscles too tight to move. I glared at Dean. I scooped her up, trying to ignore her whimper of pain, and carried her into the room. I laid her carefully on the bed, as Dean went around trying to get the room demon proof. I kneaded lightly into Jess' skin trying to get the muscles to unkink. I knew my hands weren't going to be enough.

"We're staying for a few days. She can't travel."

"Fair enough," Dean grunted.

"It hurts, Sam."

"I know, baby. A hot bath should get those muscles unworked."

"Stay with me."

"I will." I didn't like seeing her in this much pain. I knew what was happening. Her muscles had seized up from sitting still for so long. I knew some of her bruises had gotten deeper, and what she really needed to do was move. I also knew it wasn't really an option from how pale she was. I carried her to the bathroom, and started the water running in the questionable bathtub. I helped her undress as carefully as I could, but it wasn't enough if her tear stained cheeks were anything to go by. She started coughing, her entire body shaking with the spasms, and I automatically grabbed the trashcan. I got it under her just in time. As soon as she slowed, I stood and filled a cup with water.

"Slow sips." She looked up at me, shaking. I stripped down, and moved her to the bath. I slid in behind her, keeping her supported. She looked like she couldn't even hold her own weight.

"I'm so sorry. We should've stopped." A few more coughs shook her body.

"It's fine. We-" More coughing. "Needed to get away."

"Still."

"Quit worrying about me Sam."

"I can't do that right now."

"I know." I heard the TV playing in the next room, and I knew Dean was drinking. I felt the anger surge up in my chest.

**A/N: Whew that was fun. No really it was. As always, thanks to KillerKueen for betaing (she also apologizes for the tardiness of this chapter. Her computer was stolen.). However I'm in Dead Week/ Finals so I need my existence as a human validated, so please review. **


	21. Forever, Sammy

It took hours for Jess' body to calm down. We sat in the tub for two of them, and I must have refilled it about five times. I did everything I could think of to try and get her to relax enough to get her body to do what it needed to do. The fact of it was though there was too much stress for anything to work, and she remained entirely seized up. About an hour after we got out of tub she started dry heaving, occasionally just spitting out gobs of crud. Dean was passed out, doing what he did best- avoiding the situation.

Jess hadn't said much and I was trying not to worry about it. I was glad when at five-thirty she started shaking. I hated her sobbing from the pain of it, and the stitches on her back strained, but at least she was starting to move a little. By six I decided the stitches needed to come out when blood started seeping through. It would hurt, but it would be better than if she popped one. I was exhausted and she was shaking so badly**,** I cut her as I removed them. She was so sensitive she let out a scream that jerked Dean awake. He shot up, pulling the gun automatically from under his pillow.

"What's happening?"

"Dean, its fine. Go back to sleep." I was more concerned with the blood gushing from her back with every tremor than I was in explaining that twelve hour panicked drive had pushed Jess' body into overdrive. I grabbed a towel and pressed it to her back, ignoring her whimpers.

"Jess? Sam, what's going on?"

"You're an idiot, Dean. Just go back to sleep." I turned my attention back to Jess. "I'm so sorry, baby. I want to make it stop hurting." Dean had sat up, and was trying to assess the situation for himself. I started to pull the last two stitches but as soon as metal touched her skin it elicited another scream. As soon as she unarched her back she reached for Dean, the only person she could see. He was out of bed and grabbing her outstretched hands before I could even blink.

"Sam." He was demanding answers now. I knew better than to try and brush him off at this point.

"Twelve hours in a car, Dean and she's hurt. Her body can't handle it. Right now I need to get these stitches out. Popping one is going to hurt worse."

"Yeah, yeah I know. How long has this been going on?"

"Since we got out of the car." Dean bit his lip, finally realizing why I was angry. He didn't say anything, just continued chewing on his lip. I could see the tension in his hands from where he was resisting the urge to squeeze Jess' hands by way of apology.

"I'm so sorry."

"Just give me a hand. You can worry about apologies later," I gritted out. I was trying to calm down, knowing I was stressing Jess out more which was doing absolutely nothing to help.

"Hey**,** Jess. Sam needs to get those stitches out ok? I know it hurts. It hurts like Hell. I've been in that bed, and busting a stitch hurts so much more.

"I wasn't thinking. I should've stopped. Let you get out. I get so focused when it comes to keeping Sammy safe. That's how we were raised. And getting you out of there .I don't know why those demons want you so bad, Jess.

"Honestly it scares the crap out of me; having no idea what's going on or how to stop it. I can't even seem to protect you or Sam from it. It's coming at us from all sides and all we can do is fight our way out. We're gonna get you better Jess**,** and we're gonna get the Colt and we're gonna beat this thing."

I tried to ignore Dean's words, knowing what he was saying was mostly between him and Jess. I worked quickly**,** pulling the last stitch out. She was focused enough on Dean that she was only letting out little whimpers. As I pressed fresh gauze to the wound she let out a little keen but settled quickly, breathing hard. She rolled to her side, facing Dean.

"Water. Please." She sounded hoarse, but at least she was talking. I slipped to the bathroom, and filled a cup. Her hands were shaking, and she needed help drinking. Dean carefully pushed some hair out her eyes.

"You good for a sec?" I didn't pretend to know what Dean's motivations were.

"Yeah." It was easier to just agree.

He disappeared and came back a second later with a damp washcloth. He carefully pushed the hair back from her face and wiped the sweat away from her face and neck. She gave a weak smile. The light was starting to filter through the curtains. Dean moved back to his bed, watching carefully, fully aware of boundaries that had become more apparent lately.

Her shaking was starting to slow and stopped for whole minutes at a time over the next hour. I began playing with her hair, knowing it had helped calm her during midterms. The tremors were down to just her hands and calves whenher breathing evened out. She slowly drifted into a light sleep, stirring every time my hand quit moving against her hair. I looked across to where Dean was dozing. Eventually she slipped deeper into sleep and I slid under myself. I woke a few hours later to Dean sliding into his boots.

"I'm gonna grab some food." He kept his voice low and I nodded. He slid out the door. I was awake now, but was content to just lay there for a while.

_Just remember not to move, Sammy_

My thoughts once again strayed to hunting. I thought back to Christmas Eve and the flash of brown-blonde hair that had brought me back. I thought back to the few months of what I now realized was as close to perfection as I was ever going to get. I had been able to hunt and be normal. I had found the balance and Brady had ripped that away from me, taken away any chance of normalcy. I was angry. That was ok because, really, it had all been so close.

I allowed my thoughts to rail off and settled into watching Jess sleep. The steady movement of her breathing was enthralling, and given the past five hours of broken sobs and labored breathing, comforting. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I figured that would probably wake her. I settled down relaxing, my own breathing beginning to match hers. I jumped when the door opened, revealing Dean balancing boxes precariously. I stood and grabbed the drinks before they fell, careful to not wake Jess.

We sat down at the table across from each other. I put Jess' food to the side for when she woke up. I cracked my own box open, expecting some sort of delicious smell to fill my nose. Instead I got the smell of slightly damp potato chips. I picked up a floppy BLT and glared at Dean.

"What the hell, man?"

"Sorry."

I sighed and bit into the sandwich cringing at the thick coating of grease that suddenly covered my tongue. I forced it down anyway before proceeding to burn my mouth on too hot coffee.

"Sammy, about yesterday-"

"You were scared Dean. We all were. No one said anything. If you really have to apologize to someone**,** make it Jess. She was the one suffering.

"I am sorry, Sam. I should've been thinking."

"Speaking of thinking-"

"I'm not going to like what you're about to say am I?"

"I don't know, but it needs to be said. You know how hunting was never purely endgame for me? I wanted the house, 2.6 kids, and normal?"

"Yeah. It's sorta the whole reason you left." The sarcasm from his mouth tasted bitter on my tongue.

"I still want it. More than anything, but I think it's time to look at the fact it might not happen. That it's not real."

"So basically you're owning up to reality?"

"I'm saying I'm accepting the fact that hunting full-time is going to be my life."

"Thanks for sharing." I heard rustling on the bed.

"Sam?" Her voice was raw. It sounded like it hurt to talk. I closed my container and stood, walking towards her.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Hi," she whispered when I reached her.

"Hi. How're you?"

"Been better. Kinda feel like shit actually."

"Yeah. That's not too surprising."

"I could really use a shower."

"Let's get you sitting first. Maybe get some food in you." I could see how weak she was- how much the past twenty-four hours had taken out of her and she hadn't exactly been running at a hundred percent before that. She looked like she belonged in a hospital, and if I was being honest with myself that's probably exactly where she should be. I felt a pressure on my arm and realized she was trying to pull herself up. I put my free hand on her waist to help her. She groaned, and almost sank back down.

"I got you."

"You always do." Dean carried over the still warm soup.

"How you doin' there, Jess?"

"You need to ask?"

"Ah, well. Tomato-rice soup. I can'tbelieve they had it. Guaranteed to make you feel better though.

"Thanks." She took the soup in shaking hands and the proffered spoon. The cup wobbled precariously, and I grabbed it before it sloshed everywhere. She tried to steady the spoon and nearly managed. She got the spoon in the soup before a particularly violent tremor rocked her hand and it splattered back into the container.

"I got it, babe." Jess let out a frustrated groan.

"God. This is embarrassing."

"It's ok. It happens. We're here as long as you need."

"What we need to do is get the Colt and get out of here."

_The job is always the most important thing, Sammy_

"Jess, you aren't any use to us if you can't even feed yourself."

"You, Dean Winchester, are an asshole. I can judge for myself if I can do anything and that includes hunting." Her sharpness of her words was undercut by the coughing fit she descended into. A moment later she motioned for the trash can. I put the soup on the nightstand and held her hair. I looked at her skeptically.

"You ok there, princess?" Dean was being sarcastic, pushing her buttons. Although it annoyed me, her response indicated that she was going to be just fine.

"Maybe staying for a while might not be such a bad idea. I still say what I can and can't do." I simply kissed her hair. She curled into my side and sat there for a few moments. I ran my fingers along the uninjured side of her neck.

"Sam?" she finally asked. I hummed, letting her know I was listening. "I really need a shower. I'm filthy, and sweaty and disgusting." I relented, and helped her to the shower. She kicked me out to use the bathroom, but admitted to needing help getting into the shower, and staying upright.

We stayed in Grand Junction for four days. I could see Jess regaining strength with each passing hour. She just needed the time. Dean had called Dad and Bobby to let them know what had happened in Casper, to be alert. They expressed their concern for Jess, and told us to stay safe. I knew Bobby was more worried about the demons than Dad was, but for once I couldn't find it in me to blame him. We were close; we could all feel it.

It was the afternoon of the third day. Dean had gone to get some food. Constantly having to leave the relative safety of the motel room was stressful, but the fact of the matter was we had to eat. As I was unwilling to leave Jess I had to trust Dean could take care of himself. We were curled up on the bed, watching daytime TV, waiting for Dean to get back. Jess stretched, her muscles still stiff, but she was moving a lot more easily now.

"We should probably leave tomorrow."

"Give it one more day?"

"Ok." I had been expecting more of a fight, but I could tell she was enjoying the time. Dean had bought a game of Monopoly while he was out and we had indulged in a marathon game. I knew we had to leave though. The morning of day five seemed to be more than enough time.

"That easy, huh?"

"I like spending time with you guys like this. Makes me feel like I have a family."

"Yeah. You are family."

"I can't go back, Sam. I don't really have a family anymore. I mean, it's not like I can tell anyone about this, after being gone for months."

"You ok, Jess?" I felt the break we had all been expecting coming.

"Yeah. I've had time to think about it. I miss them Sam**,** and I will for a long long time. I don't doubt my choices though. I made the right ones for the right reasons. It means I'm stuck with the Winchesters, but I can't think of a family I'd rather join."

"Marry me." The words just came out. They were true- I wanted her to really be a part of the family. She looked at me in pure panic. I bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn't pass this off as a lighthearted comment, and my heart froze as I waited for an answer.

"Not right now." I felt my heart sink.

"Fair enough."

"Ask again. Someday. I love you, Sam. I will say yes. Just not right now." I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, pulling her tight against me.

"It's a bad idea. I know it is. And I will. Someday. Just wanna keep you safe."

"You won't lose me, Sam."

"I know, baby. I know." Not long after Dean came in with the food. We were pressed tightly together on the bed, lips hovering just on each other's.

"I'll just chill in the car for a while then."

**A/N: This will likely be the last chapter up before I leave for a three week study abroad. As such I will not be updating during that time (as I'll have fairly limited Internet access, and will be in class a majority of the time) but I'll be writing! Thanks for your patience**


	22. There It Is, Sammy

**Warning: This chapter contains some sexual content (primarily implied- no more than we see in canon) **

The next morning we were packing. Despite the fact we really didn't have a lot of stuff it seemed as if everything we owned was sprawled throughout the room. Jess came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist**,** and leaning up to kiss my shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you."She was doing substantially better than she was four days previously. Although not at a hundred percent, color had returned to her face and all of the stitches had come out. The bruises were fading to a green-yellow, and only gauze decorated her neck. I was nervous about confronting Elkins tomorrow, but I still couldn't keep the smile off my face.

"Oh this definitely isn't mine." Dean held up a pair of purple panties, gripping them between his thumb and forefinger.

"You prefer satin**,** don't you Dean?" I teased. He flushed and I grinned at my success. Jess crossed the room and Dean held them above his head.

"Give them here**,** Dean!"

"Why would I do that? I think Sammy would appreciate it**.** "

"Dean!" She jumped.

_Gonna make your jump for it, Sammy_

Dean laughed and she had a smile of her face despite the annoyance in her tone. The mood had changed so much from when we arrived. We were still wary of, well, everything, but it was becoming second nature to be worried.

"Give them here!" She kicked him playfully in the shin.

"You'll have to try harder than that, Moore!"

"I can only jump so high**,** Winchester." She tackled him to the floor and they landed with an oomph. "That was a mistake," she groaned, hauling herself off Dean, underwear in hand. She leaned against the side of the bed, clutching her side, laughing.

"I concede defeat." He pulled her back to her feet and she scampered back across the room to finish packing.

Half an hour later**,** a cursory glance around our temporary home told us we weren't forgetting anything. The familiar rumble of the Impala underneath me lured further into relaxation as Jess and Dean continued their playful bickering in the front seat. Hills and trees rolled by. We were coasting the edge of the Rockies, delving deeper into the mountains. I loved the thrill that came with driving mountain passes - skirting the edge of the road, a wall of rock pressing against the car. Pine trees, with lighter green pockets of aspens dancing in the breeze. I loved it and always got distracted by the wandering road, the constant up and down. It was nice to just go a bit numb. Eventually we were pulling into Gunnison - Dean getting a little lost when he tried to find the Holiday Inn- butting up against the campus of some school.

"We're stopping?" I asked, a little confused. It was still early.

"Yeah. We aren't going to go in guns blazing tonight. We barely know where he lives."

"Right. So why the Holiday Inn?"

"Because**,** Jess, college town."

"Basically it translates to him wanting to get laid."

"Right." We got settled into our room, Jess collapsing onto our bed, and groaned. "This is nice."

I flopped down next to her, burrowing into the softness of the bed. I grabbed one of the pillows cuddling it to my chest. Dean stood in the doorway smirking. He tossed the bags on the desk.

"You two are ridiculous." Four hours later, a bit to my surprise,we were all ready to go out.

"Be careful man, I don't think they followed us here, but you never know."

"Always am. I'll see you guys later." Dean was headed to a bar, no doubt hoping to pick up a horny co-ed. I tried not to feel like an old married couple when Jess and I rejected Dean's offer of tagging along to the bar. Instead we were treating ourselves to an Italian restaurant the front desk had recommended.

We had a good time, more relaxed than we had been in weeks. The food was ok at best, definitely not something we would have tolerated in California, but we felt normal for a few hours. Like we didn't have demons on our tail. We took our time with dinner, not talking about anything too serious.

Eventually**,** though**,** we did finish. We headed back to the hotel hand in hand. I couldn't help but think about the night Brady attacked us, the last time we had been this relaxed. I became a bit more vigilant, pulling Jess closer. We made it back unscathed, and we were laughing. I opened the door assuming Dean was still out. I grinned at Jess, walking in only to be confronted with a strong, definitely male back that was not my brother's. I realized a little too late that my brother was under the mystery guy.

"Dude, you could've put a sock on the door or something." I averted my eyes and we made a hasty exit. I glanced over to Jess who looked a bit shell shocked. I was used to it- Dean and I had lived out of each other's pockets our whole lives. Seeing things we'd rather not see came with the territory. I suppressed a laugh at the look on her face.

"Oh. Oh, I didn't realize Dean was-"

"He's not. Men, women, a pretty face is a pretty face as far as he concerned. It's not one of those things we talk about."

"Right. Right. Winchesters."

"Hey, I resent that." We leaned against the Impala, hands still intertwined. I looked up at the sky; it was surprisingly clear. "Mars is out tonight."

"Yeah**,** it's close too."

"Yeah. It is."

"It's pretty."

"I love you. I'm glad you're ok."

"I'm glad I'm ok**,** too. You think Dean is about done in there? It's kinda chilly." I shrugged out of my jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She leaned back against me and we watched the moon shift. I realized we could probably head back. It was chilly for late May. I realized, also, for the first time since we'd left that finals were long over, that we had managed to just disappear.

"We should head in."

"Yeah." Jess hauled herself to her feet and I unfolded myself. The hotel was warm. When we reached the room I knocked, just to be sure.

"We're coming in, so you better be decent." I didn't hear any scrambling so I swiped the key card. Dean was lounging on the bed, hair still damp from the shower, towel thrown on the floor by the bed.

"Have a good time?" Jess asked.

"I won't be able to walk straight for a week."

"Ok! Ok! Some things I do not need to know."

"Ah, poor Sam." Jess teased. She disappeared to the bathroom and I heard the shower turn on. I flopped on the bed opposite Dean. He had a boxing match turned on.

"Ready for tomorrow?" It was a habit I had picked up years ago, when Dean started going on the easy hunts with Dad. The night before the first time he went he was more nervous than a girl waiting to be asked to prom. Ever since**,** I had always checked on him when he was headed out without me, or if it was a big hunt.

"I'm fine Sam. Managed to burn off a little steam. I really just want this thing to be over."

"You and me both. So close."

"Up early tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Not too early, though. Someone kept us out until almost midnight."

"You could've napped in the car."

"The keys were your pocket. Of the jeans that were god knows where on the floor."

"Right." Dean rubbed the back of his neck, turning his attention back to the TV, flipping through the channels aimlessly. He settled on a random movie. Dean was half asleep by the time Jess climbed into bed next to me. I reached over to turn on the alarm as Dean clicked off the TV and the light. Jess nuzzled into me and was out in less than ten minutes. I lay awake, flat on my back for a long time. I wasn't worried about the next day, per say. A combination of nerves and excitement was keeping me up.

"You awake, Sammy?"

_Go to sleep, Sammy_

"Yeah."

"We're gonna be fine."

"I know."

"Then why are you awake?"

"Because you're talking to me**,** jerk."

"Better than layingin silence, bitch."

"Shut up."

"Fine." Eventually light snores began to issue from the other bed. I closed my eyes trying to relax. Focusing on the weight of Jess' head on my shoulder**,** I fell asleep.

It felt like seconds later when the alarm began blaring insistently next to my head. I slammed the off button without opening my eyes. A few seconds later I managed to peel them open. Dean's head was wedged in the space between the pillows. Jess had rolled away from me in the night, but I could tell she was awake. I rolled out of bed, heading for the shower.

Forty-five minutes later we were finishing the last of breakfast. The Impala was packed and we were ready to go. There were butterflies in my stomach. I wasn't supposed to get butterflies. I was a Winchester for crying out loud.I had intentionally gone after a pack of werewolves not six months ago and I hadn't gotten butterflies. This was different though. This was personal. I could see Dean hesitating. I hoped Jess would prod us. We needed it. Manning was an hour and a half down 114, and we needed to get going. Jess licked some powdered sugar off her lips.

"You boys ready?"

"No." We said it at the same time.

"Ok. One more doughnut." She got up and came back with three.

"Thanks."

"Mr. Winchesters, we will have to leave when you finish that." I nodded. I chewed slowly, but I couldn't prolong it forever. We walked more slowly than we normally would. I crawled into the back of the Impala. I needed to center myself before we did this. I still couldn't shake the butterflies. Dean was actually driving the speed limit. Jess was sitting there in her infinite patience. The trees still sped by too fast, and far too soon we were pulling into Manning which wasn't more than a bar and a convenience store with a post office tucked in the back. We stopped anyway- Dean claimed the Impala needed gas. Jess disappeared into the bathroom. I leaned against the Impala as Dean filled her up.

"What if this goes wrong?"

"We shoot him."

"We don't kill people."

"I don't know, Sammy. I really don't."

_I can't know everything, Sammy_

"We'll figure it out."

"We will."

"Do you even know where we're going?"

"More or less."

"Right." The Impala finished fueling and Dean muttered about gas prices, going in to pay.

We were back on the road a few moments later. It turned out Dean did actually know where he was going. The road got increasingly worse, to the point Jess and Dean began waxing on the potential damage being done to the Impala's undercarriage.

We parked far enough away he wouldn't hear the engine. It was a cabin, half rundown on the outside. No one would think twice about it. We got out. Dean pulled a shotgun from the trunk.

"Just in case," he said. I joined him, bracing myself on the bumper. He rummaged for some extra shells, sliding them into his pocket. His hands hesitated as he went to close the trunk.

"You ready**,** Sammy?" I took a deep breath before I spoke.

"Let's go."

_Be brave, Sammy_

Jess knocked on the door. She had given us a look when we had gone automatically for knocking down the door.

"Humanity, boys. Keep it simple." The door of the cabin flew open and we staring down the barrel of a rifle. Dean had the shotgun up before I registered what I was looking at.

"Who are you?"

"Dean Winchester. My brother Sam. Jess Moore."

"John Winchester's boys?" His eyes narrowed. He had worked with Dad before.

"Yes, sir."

"You're the girl. Hear you wrestled with a lady in white." He glanced at Jess, like she was some sort of mutant.

"And I won. Shower curtains**,** on the other hand**,** have proved more of a challenge." He lowered the gun at Jess' easy humor.

"What do you want**,** then?" He didn't relax, but he at least seemed like he might work with us.

"The Colt." Dean said it without ceremony.

"Dean!" Jess scolded. "We heard rumors that you had a gun that may help us."

"Why would you want something like that?" Elkins was gruff, but seemed to respond to Jess' tact, so I followed her lead.

"We are,'' I hesitated, "close to finding the thing that killed my mother. Very close. When we get there we want to make sure it's dead. No chances."

"I can't help you. Sorry."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Never said I didn't. Just said I couldn't help you."

"We need that gun."

"Lots of people have needed that gun through the years. I've never given it to any of them." The butterflies in my stomach started flying around. This was not going well.

"Well, we actually need it."

"John Winchester knows how to kill damn near everything. Whatever it is that killed his wife**,** he can handle it."

"Demon. It's a demon, pretty high on Hell's VIP listfrom whatwe can tell. Its lackeys chased us halfway here." I tried not to hear the desperation in Dean's voice.

_I'm not desperate, Sammy_

"I still can't help."

"These- these demons, Daniel, they've nearly killed me twice now. I am above begging, especially when there's a shotgun in your hands. I've lost everything but Sam because of them and I need them dead, nearly as badly as these boys do. We don't need that gun because we're bad hunters," Jess said, trying to appeal to his emotional side. I felt my heart break as I realized her family may not be dead, but for all intents and purposes I was all she had left.

"I never said-"

"I know you have that gun. We will get it back to you, but you have to give it to us first. We won't be leaving here without it."

"You may be able to handle a lady in white, miss, but I've been hunting longer than that pretty little head of yours has been alive."

"That's funny because I'm the one with the gun on you." Dean had long since lowered the shotgun, and Jess grabbed it from his hands now and raised it.

"Now, we can keep this civil."

"I believe Dean gave you that option. I believe I gave you that option, twice. Now, Elkins, civility is gone. We need that gun."

"You'll have to shoot me first."

"It won't come to that**,** I'm sure. I would recommend you hurry." Jess may be broken sometimes, she may show it, but I was constantly amazed by how good she was provingherself to be at this job. She wasn't afraid to get rid of the civility when it came to it. Elkins turned in the door, motioning us inside, looking resigned. Jess kept the gun trained on him.

The cabin was small, utilitarian. It wasn't particularly surprising, and I got the feeling there was more to it then met the eye. He led us through the kitchen, sparsely outfitted, but it looked like he running water. He was aware of the shotgun pressing into his back. I was more aware of Jess' finger on the trigger. Just off the kitchen was a room that appeared to function primarily as an office. He stopped. There was a safe behind the door. He knelt slowly and unlocked it.

"Colt made twelve bullets. Four have been used."

"One shot is all it's gonna take."

"If it takes more it's going to be you boys who'll find yourselves on the business end of a shotgun."

"We doubt that. We are robbing you blind." The reality of the situation needed to be acknowledged.

"Did what you needed to do. Can't say I wouldn't do the same if the situation was reversed." He handed the Colt over to Dean. Dean nodded to Jess, who lowered the shotgun.

"We appreciate your cooperation."

"Don't suppose you'll be staying for a cup of coffee."

"No**,** we won't."

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon."

"I'm sure you will." We backed our way out of the house, only turning our backs when we were out of shooting range. We settled into the Impala. Dean back onto the 114 and drove south. I let out a whoop as the butterflies that had been plaguing me all morning slipped away. We stopped in a town called Monte Vista for lunch. Dean called Dad to let him know.

"Hey. Yeah. We got it." Dean paused. "Yeah, we're only a day away. We can check it out. We will." He hung up. "Bobby caught word of something that looks like werewolf activity near Baker City, Oregon. Thinks it might be something like we got back in March."

"The ones that tore Sam to pieces?"

"In my defense, some of those stitches were because Dean shot me."

"Those were the ones." Jess took a deep breath. She looked almost scared.

"Right. How far is it?"

"Sixteen hours."

"Great. Another long car trip."

"We'll stop."

"Thanks."

**A/N: Do you all have Kleenex ready? If the season finale doesn't take your heart out the next chapter will. See you all in three weeks!**


	23. Watch Our Backs, Sammy

I couldn't shake the feeling _something_ was off as we drove. At first I thought it had just been lunch settling poorly but four hours in when Dean pulled over claiming fatigue and Jess took over driving it still hadn't gone away.

"It can't be the mutated wolves**,** right?" Dean said as he slid into the passenger seat

"Bobby seems to think that's what they are."

"There were only the five and I know one didn't get away."

"Maybe they infected others. Before we got to them."

"It's possible," he allowed. "We've just never seen anything like this before."

"We'll figure it out when we get there, Dean. Just sleep." It was the best I could offer. I wanted to theorize too, but it wouldn't get us anywhere- we just had to trust Bobby. I knew sleep wasn't going to come easily for him, a combination of elation and adrenaline still keeping him up. I felt much the same but decided to at least attempt to take my own advice. I closed my eyes, aware of every bump in the road jostling me more than usual. After what felt like ages I dozed off.

I knew it was a dream this time. I wasn't sure though if it was a vision or just another nightmare that the job had the tendency to bring about. It was the wolves; of course we were hunting them. We were in the woods, just outside of God Knows Where, but I could see the lights of the city just beyond the dark blanket of trees. Jess was armed, but held against a tree; Dean was fighting his own battle not far away- doing substantially better than Jess, but he still needed help. I was rooted to the spot, as often happens in these sorts of dreams. I didn't even have anything to shoot at them with. I started screaming when one of them sunk its claws into Jess' chest.

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean's voice. It took a second to realize that the voice didn't make sense in the context of the dream and I opened my eyes.

"Huh?"

"You were thrashin' all over the car."

"Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare."

"You sure?" He looked at me speculatively, as if he was unable to discern if I was lying or not.

"Yeah, yeah." _I_ was unable to discern if I was lying or not. I glanced behind me. Jess was passed out in the backseat. It was dark.

"Ok. Thinking of stopping soon. We have about five hours 'til Baker City and I'm beat."

"Not going to wake Jess up?"

"Nah. We pulled over and switched about two hours ago. She was about to pass out at the wheel. May as well just stop."

"Fine. I just wanna be done with this hunt. It's not sitting right with me."

"Me neither." I swore I heard him mutter it under his breath. We found a roadside motel in no time and roused a reluctant Jess into bed. Dean passed out face first into the bed. I didn't last much longer, though I managed to get blankets over Jess and I before sinking into a more peaceful slumber.

We were moving early the next morning- a bit too early in my opinion. It had been late when we pulled in. Bobby had called demanding to know if we were there yet and that while we were dawdling there had been two more fatalities. Dean insisted he had gotten his four hours and was fine.

"We aren't much good to them if we're wrapped around a pole because you fell asleep at the wheel."

_You never complained before, Sammy_

"God, Sammy, we do it like this all the time. Get your panties out of a twist."

"Yeah, right." I crossed my arms and tried very hard not to pout. I heard Jess snort from the bed anyway. Apparently I wasn't succeeding at the not pouting thing. I tossed the little that had been removed from my bag back in and stalked to the backseat to wait for Dean to check us out. Jess wasn't far behind me. She opened the door on the opposite side of the car and crawled in. she curled against me, head on my chest, but she kept her eyes directed out the windshield.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him."

"Jess, just don't." I sighed, more exasperated than angry.

"I'm going to."

"The relationship between me and my brother is just that- between me and my brother."

"And when I'm with you all I'm affected by it too- whether I want to be or not. Just cut him some slack."

"We fight. It's what we do."

"You're worried."

"It's nothing, Jess. Just giving him crap."

"He's trying. He just- he doesn't know everything, Sam."

"Yeah. I know." It was true. I had known Dean wasn't infallible for a long time, since I was thirteen or fourteen. Part of me, the part that was still six years old, and innocent, never accepted it, that knew Dean always knew the answers. This time i wondered if may I was being too hard on him. It was brand new, all of it. There was nothing to know except this horrible feeling hanging over me.

"It's hard, this job. You give a lot to it. Everything really." Jess sounded resigned to it, to being in this for the long haul.

"We got the Colt though. Once this is over we have an out. We can be normal."

"We both know normal-"

"As normal as we can be," I pressed. "We should get a separate room tonight." I changed the subject. It was something that needed to be addressed anyway. Although the three of us sharing a room was significantly more economically sound (and given the things that went bump in the night, a bit more practical) it was going to get to a point where it would be awkward. Well, it had already reached that point in Gunnison. There were just somethings you couldn't do with your brother in the room. I didn't need to have a conversation with Dean to know that he agreed.

"Yeah, we should." She smiled up at me, making eye contact for the first time. Dean came out to the car not long after, and we hit the road.

Eventually, we arrived in Baker City. I tried to block out my previous conversation with Jess. I wondered if she wanted out. Focus, I needed to focus. We had other problems. Werewolves, for one. I didn't like the idea of going up against them again.

I told myself it was just another hunt as I slipped my knife into my belt waiting for Jess to get out of the bathroom. I triple-checked my gun before setting it down. I rested my head in my hands, staring at the fake wood grain of the table, trying to center myself. Jess came up behind me, digging her thumbs into my shoulder blades.

"We got this**,** Sam." I straightened up.

"Yeah, I know. Let's go get Dean." I stood and slid my gun into my jacket pocket. She nodded and followed. I pounded on Dean's door who promptly answered and ushered us in. His 1911 was in pieces on the table. I questioned him silently and he shrugged.

"Where are we looking for them?" I assumed Bobby had given some information he had yet to share.

"There's a warehouse that's apparently at the geographic center of the attacks. Surrounded by an empty field. The whole nine. Bobby thinks that's where they're based."

"Of course." Jess said it like she expected it. I crashed onto the wicker chair; legs splayed, and hand on the back of my neck, as the chair groaned**,** my weight an abuse on its old frame.

"We're treating this like any other hunt, Sammy."

_Never let it get personal, Sammy_

"We don't have any idea what we're getting into. I just don't like it."

"Jess, can you give me a moment with my brother?" I assumed she nodded, and I heard the door open then click shut. "Ok Sam, she's gone. Now what in the hell crawled into your boxers this morning because you've been acting like it was the devil himself since we hit the road."

"It's nothing."

"Well**,** you keep second guessing everything anyone says and that _nothing_ is going to get us all killed. And don't give me that bad feeling crap again."

"Drop it, Dean."

"No." He settled into the chair across from me and began reassembling his gun, slowly.

"You don't want to have this conversation."

"Damn right I don't, but we're having it anyway."

"This is hard. It's not supposed to be like this."

"I thought you had your little 'hunting isn't supposed to be my life' crisis already."

"I did. I've accepted I'm stuck. That we're stuck. But I don't know if you've noticed but we've got demons on our tail and a pack of wolves that came from god knows where in front of us."

"You're scared."

"Yeah, I am. Terrified in fact. It's coming down around us and you don't seem to care."

"We have a job to do, Sam."

"And I'm doing it."

"You had better start. Scared doesn't have a place in this job, Sammy, and you know it."

"I've got it together. I'll just be happier when we get this taken care of."

"So will I. Let's get it taken care of then."

"Ok." I stood, ignoring the budding feeling of doom. Dean was right. I was going to get us killed if I didn't get focused, get whatever had gotten into my head out. This was just a hunt. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

That's what I chanted to myself all the way to warehouse. Jess, in the backseat, kept her hand on my shoulder the whole time. For the first time in a long time it wasn't her touch that was keeping me centered but rather the cool press of my knife against the skin of my lower back.

The majority of the windows in the old metal building had long since been blown out or otherwise shattered, the fragments of glass having been trampled back to sand or blown away in the wind. Graffiti decorated the outside; the work of bored teenagers in a small town. It was sostereotypically creepy, I almost had to laugh- at least there wasn't any ominous thunder.

I closed my eyes. We got out of the Impala and I felt the extra bullets in my pocket clatter around. It felt too loud. We were silent- Dean taking point. My gun felt heavy in my hand. It was hand signals and prodding touches. I recognized the same kind of growling and snarls that had characterized the wolves' communication that night at the diner. Dean glanced back at us and we both offered a curt nod. We breached the building and by some miracle the old doors didn't creak.

The wind surged and the door clanged shut against the corrugated metal. It was dark, nearly pitch inside, but I trusted my eyes to adjust quickly. The clamor from the wolves stopped as soon as the door shut. Any hope of in and out quickly slipped from my mind. I clicked the safety off my gun as I heard the clatter of dogs' claws against the cement floor.

These were not as well-groomed as the ones in Washington had been. I got a whiff of the pungent combination of human body odor and wet dog before I saw the glint of teeth in the darkness. I readied myself, steadying my hand. One lunged towards Dean, knocking him off balance. The other swiped a claw across him, and the ripping of fabric reached my ears. I sensed Jess cocking her gun and aiming and I followed suit. Silver flew into them and they went down with a whimper. Dean hauled himself up before anymore could get on him and drew his gun.

"You ok?"

"I'll live." I could hear the pain in his voice, but chose to ignore it. I couldn't get a count in the dark, but from the sounds of the claws circling us it sounded like there was about another six. We were surrounded and backed against each other in a triangle, firing off shots into the dark, where we thought we could discern hulking shapes. We only heard two bodies hit the ground**,** though. There was a yelp and then a responding growl, and we heard claws head for the back exit.

Dean sprinted ahead, Jess wrapping around the other flank, leaving me to head off any that might try to escape. They were trying to be quiet, not wanting us to find them. We had the luxury of not worrying about that.

"Sammy get up here and watch our backs!" I surged forward, familiar muscles working to get to them. I reached them just in time to see one of the wolves surge forward, illuminated by the moonlight, and tear its claws into Jess' back. She went down with a scream. I realized vaguely they were going for kills, as messy as they could make them. They didn't want to change anyone. Just kill them.

"JESS!" The words left my mouth before I could help it. A cardinal rule, always unspoken: never show your weakness, not in front of monsters. Teeth glinting, claws tore into Jess. The rest of the pack came to help, one knocking me over into a pile of wood. I felt my shoulder leave its socket and skin tear loose as it found a rusty nail. I didn't feel the pain as Jess' screams died into gurgles.

**A/N: I'm back and with a vengeance. Reviews are lovely (and may help speed along the resolution of that lovely cliffhanger)**


	24. She's Gonna Be Ok, Sammy

I righted myself as quickly as I could, the world still spinning a bit. I was aware of the screaming pain in my shoulder, blood dripping down my arm, though terror and adrenaline kept me from really feeling it. I shifted my gun, holding it with one hand, trying to stay steady. Dean had already snapped into action, but his unwillingness to accidently hit Jess was slowing him down. A shot fired from inside the pile of wolves, followed by another seemed to break the spell. Dean could tell where she was. We could kill these bastards.

Jess' bullets had barely grazed one of the wolves, but it was enough to startle them at least. Gave us time to recoup. My good arm was shaking. I fired into the mass of wolves. A deep breath. Again. Again. Three down. With the ones Dean had shot**,** there were only a couple left standing. They scattered. We didn't try to stop them.

I was frozen. I couldn't even look towards where Jess was lying, surrounded by the corpses of the wolves. Dean walked over, kicking aside the bodies, kneeling beside Jess, pressing two fingers to her throat. I knew his jeans would be stained red when stood up.

"Sammy," the pause was infinite. I felt like I died twice while I waited for him to finish. "She's alive." His voice sounded choked, like he couldn't believe it.

I nearly went boneless with relief. She was alive and Dean was already scooping her up. I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, willing panic down. I opened the car door and he placed her in the backseat. I couldn't even tell where the blood was coming from. I wasn't sure if they hadn't gotten their teeth into her. Dean slammed the gas. I eventually located one of the wound and applied pressure. Her eyes fluttered open as Dean took a particularly hard turn.

"Sam." An air bubble dark with her blood appeared at the corner of her mouth when she spoke.

"Shh."

"Sam, it hurts."

"I know, baby. We're almost to the hospital."

"Hold my hand." I carefully took one of my hands off the wound- it wasn't doing much good anyway, and twined my fingers, sticky with her blood in hers. She had passed out again.

"Dean."

"I'm going as fast as I can, Sammy."

"Go faster." The engine revved under me. Not much later we whipped into a parking lot with a squeal. Dean dived out of the car, scooping her up.I followed behind as quickly as I could. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I was starting to feel my shoulder, and the blood still dripping steadily down my arm. I knew we looked a sight when we stumbled through the door, dirty and covered in blood.

They had her on a gurney, lots of hands pushing on her body, trying to find the wounds, hanging bags, pushing needles into her, forcing air into her lungs. I realized we had barely gotten here in time. That she had stopped breathing.

"Sammy!" I heard before the world went black.

I woke up staring at the stark white of hospital ceiling tiles. I sat bolt upright, ignoring the twinge in my shoulder.

"Jess!" The needle in my arm jerked up solidly. I looked around in panic.

"She's ok, Sam. She's in surgery." I took some gasping shallow breaths that did absolutely nothing to calm me. I was aware I was hyperventilating but couldn't remember how to stop it. Dean' hand was on my shoulder, and I focused on that.

_Quit with the words, Sammy_

"How long has she been in?"

"You've been out for a couple hours. Starting to get worried. You, you lost a lot of blood. Nicked a vein or something." I glanced up, and saw a bag of blood hanging above me.

"Ugh, they put my shoulder back in."

"Yeah." We sat for a few minutes. I was woozy between blood loss and pain medication. I wanted to get up and wait somewhere that wasn't a hospital bed, but I knew it was no use. I doubted I could stand, and I was tired.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Think they can give me something to make the dizziness stop?"

"Want me to go see?"

"Yeah."

A few minutes later a dose of Dramamine had me ready to pass out. I didn't always tolerate drugs well. It was sort of ridiculous considering my size. I didn't try to fight it, knowing unconsciousness would make the time go faster. All I could do while awake was worry.

I woke the next morning, no longer in the ER. Light was streaming through the window, and Dean was dozing, head on my bed, sitting in a chair. I poked him.

"Wassit Sam?"

"You're going to hurt your neck like that."

"Uh huh." He sat up, stretching his neck out and popped it so loud I could hear it. I tried not to grimace. "How're you?"

"Ok. Jess?"

"Got out of surgery about six. She lost a lot of blood, was pretty torn up, but they think she'll be ok. Gonna have some nasty scars."

"Can I see her?"

"I don't know. Probably. Think they were gonna release you this morning."

"Ok. Ok." I coaxed myself into a sitting position. After what seemed like forever I was dressed and fitted in a sling. I followed Dean down the hall, up two floors, down another hall, and finally we were standing in intensive care. Intensive care. The words rang in my head, not having too much meaning. I followed Dean down the hall beyond the sliding glass door, and stopped just behind him when he paused in front of a door. Suddenly I was scared to go in.

"She'll be ok Sam. Just gonna take some time." Her tiny body was surrounded by tubes and wires, and a ventilator tube stuck out of her mouth.

"Oh God."

"These things happen."

"I know. It's just; it shouldn't, not to her. It was never supposed to be like it is."

"It is what it is. We're gonna be here a while."

"Yeah. You called Dad and Bobby yet?"

"I'm gonna check in with them later. They know Jess was hurt pretty bad. Had to talk Bobby out of coming down here right away." I had to laugh. Bobby had taken to Jess like a fish to water.

"Of course. Do they know when she'll wake up?"

"They have her under right now. Letting her body do its thing."

"There's nothing we can do but wait, is there?"

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"It's, it's gonna be ok. Just gotta wait it out."

"You up for some food?"

"Yeah**.**" I wanted to stay, but it would do no good. I hadn't eaten in over 24 hours, and I knew that I didn't want to pass out again. Dean left our cell numbers at the nurse's station, but we both knew nothing would changeWe went by the motel first, settling in for the long haul, before finding a diner. I ordered a burger, not caring about fat or vegetables or anything I needed solid comfort food. I didn't even care when Dean laughed at the hot cocoa I ordered. He was scrutinizing me closely.

"Sam? That nightmare you had, it was a nightmare right?" I thought back to it. It had been different than what had actually happened.

"Now's not the time."

"No. But it's never going to be the right time."

"I really don't want to talk about it**,** Dean."

"You're talking about it whether you want to or not."

"I'm pretty sure it was just a nightmare."

"Just pretty sure?"

"It was vivid, and Jess was hurt, then I woke up. But it was in the woods, and you were pinned. Before visions were detailed, to the stitch sorta thing. It was just a nightmare."

"Fine. You'd say something if you had another vision right?"

"Yeah, I would? You think I'd risk Jess, risk _you_?"

"No. I just have no idea what's going on here. It's all kinds of messed up."

"It's coming at us from all sides."

"And I can't stop it."

"We can deal with it. Jess is gonna get better, and we're gonna go after these things. Take care of the demons and get back to it."

"Yeah." He didn't sound convinced.

**A/N: Writer's block got me. Got me good. So it's a short chapter but at least it's a chapter. Also, there were severe technical difficulties (I spent two weeks denying my novel was gone. I got most of it back.) on both my side and my beta's. Everyone has a computer now, so it should all be good. Thanks for your patience, if you're still reading.**


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